Soul Healing
by Viktoria7
Summary: Talaitha is a traveling healer who's perfectly content with her solitary lifestyle. That is, until a certain scheming wizard convinces her to join Thorin's Company as their healer. Faced with more terror, pain, and joy than she imagined possible, Talaitha must decide if Thorin and his kin are worth relinquishing her previous life for good. Eventual Thorin/OFC. Rating may go up to M
1. Chapter 1: Uninvited Guests

**Hello, fellow _Hobbit _fandom members! I come bearing a Thorin/OFC story. It's a combination of book and movie-verse, and will follow the novel past where _An Unexpected Journey_ left off. Though I've endeavored to remain true to canon (and this includes the film) in that I've tried not to change characters' portrayals, I've taken quite a few liberties with this story. First, there is a non-canon race that's featured in this story. In fact, I've woven them into Middle-earth's history as seamlessly as I could without changing the heart of Tolkien's work. Second, I took inspiration from Hungarian mythology and history for my invented race of people. So yeah, that part deviates from Tolkien. Just a friendly warning because I'd rather not have angry comments about that. :)  
**

**For height comparisons, based on WETA's chart, Talaitha's 4'6'', Bilbo's 4'2'', Kili's 4'5'', and Thorin's 4'11'' (I rounded him up). **

**The chart, character representations, and pronunciation guides (including an audio) can be found on my profile. **

**Since this is a long chapter, I probably won't update this for a week (but I do have 4 chapters written!). I have three other stories I'm working on, in addition to annoying RL stuffs. XD **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's creations. **

Soul Healing

**Chapter 1: Uninvited Guests**

_The Shire, 2941_

It was a warm, breezy day when Talaitha exited the home of Ferumbras III Took, bidding the Thain farewell. The medicine she'd delivered should last the hobbits months, unless an epidemic struck, but many of the Shire's healers were skilled enough to recognize and treat contagious illnesses before they could spread out of control. Talaitha had made sure of that. As a healer, she had a responsibility to protect all living things, and her particular fondness for hobbits prompted her to teach their healers remedies that were unknown to much of Middle-earth. Unknown, yes, but oftentimes more effective against stubborn sicknesses than the popular treatments. Talaitha supposed this was because, like herself, the herbs and recipes were not of Middle-earth, but of a land that boasted remarkable healing plants.

As she walked along the path from Tuckborough toward Hobbiton, she smiled and waved at many of the passing hobbits. Though hobbits were friendly creatures, they nevertheless paid close attention to visitors, especially because for one to visit the Shire, long journeys were often involved. And journeys meant the potential for adventure-something hobbits viewed with distaste. So when Talaitha first appeared in the Shire, astride her black and white horse, the halflings were understandably wary. But when she healed their sick with ease, gave them potent medicines, and taught their own healers her remedies, they welcomed her with wide smiles. And when she marveled at their comfortable homes and helped prepare meals for their celebrations, they accepted her as an honorary member of the Shirefolk.

Little hobbit children ran after her, begging for stories of her adventures. Talaitha glanced at the sky; it was past midday, and she was meant to meet Bilbo soon, but she couldn't resist the children's earnest faces. So, settling under a tree, surrounded by the children, she smoothed out her purple skirt and began.

_Across the Great Sea, laid the faraway land of Nemere. In much of Nemere, it seemed to always be spring, so people called it the Evergreen Plain, though in the language of those who lived there, it meant "meadows of the sun."For the sun always seemed to be smiling down on it, blessing it with warmth and plentiful crops. _

_The people who lived in Nemere were called the szelemér, which means "descendent," because they were believed to be the descendents of the first elves. However, you may know __the szelemér better as fairies. But they are not the fairies of your stories. Most do not fly-at least not with wings. Most are taller than hobbits though much smaller than men. And each fairy is gifted with a particular skill. Some are great blacksmiths, while others can weave magical tales through their songs. _

"And some are great healers!" said one of the children.

"Right you are," Talaitha replied with a chuckle. She paused her story, looking at the eager faces that surrounded her. Many of the children had heard this story before, yet still they listened, enraptured. She supposed it was because the szelemér were a rather secretive people that didn't often venture into Middle-earth. This probably accounted for the myths-that they were tiny, winged, elf-like creatures. Talaitha smirked at the image and continued her tale.

_One fairy was an especially gifted earth-speaker. His name was __Kund Földes, which means Kund of the Earth, and he was so benevolent and powerful that all the animals in Nemere pledged their loyalty to him. Kund was unique for a szelemér; he was not content to remain in Nemere, so he journeyed across the sea to Middle-earth, accompanied by some of his favorite animals, on a great ship. Unfortunately, he came to Middle-earth just as Sauron was planning to conquer it. During his travels, Kund had forged deep friendships with many races in Middle-earth, so he chose to join their fight against the Dark Lord. He led an army of Middle-earth's and Nemere's fiercest__ creatures-bears, wolves, huge oliphaunts, giant eagles-against Sauron's forces and defeated multiple batallions of orcs and trolls._

The children cheered at Kund's victory, and Talaitha laughed. They did so every time she told this story, yet she always delighted in it. Children of every race were like a refreshing breeze, soothing one after facing the harsh realities of the world. She waited for the children to settle down and picked up where she'd left off.

_After the battle against Sauron, __Kund continued his adventures in Middle-earth and eventually fell in love with a beautiful woman from Rohan. Or at least from the place that is called Rohan today. Her name was Aeronwen, meaning "white, fair, blessed." And indeed she was blessed, for the line of Middle-earth's skin-changers began with her and Kund's children. _

"But skin-changers are so tall, and the fairies are so small," said a child.

"Indeed," replied Talaitha. "But over thousands of years, the children of Kund and Aeronwen's line grew taller, until they became the mighty skin-changers of today."

"What are the skin-changers like?" asked Primrose, one of Talaitha's favorite hobbit girls.

Talaitha smiled and stood. "_That_ is a story for another day," she said. "I'm late to meet Bilbo, and you all know how much he dislikes tardiness."

The children laughed and followed her down the path, until she reached Bag End. She watched them chase each other through the grass for a moment before knocking on Bilbo's green door. Had she looked at it more closely, she would have seen the strange mark scratched upon it.

"If it's you again, Gandalf, I am _not_ interested." Bilbo's voice snapped from inside the hobbit hole.

"Bilbo, it's Talaitha."

Bilbo opened the door and sighed. "Sorry," he said, inviting her in. "I had a visit from Gandalf the wizard this morning." As he took her cloak, he furrowed his eyebrows at her. "You're late."

Talaitha rolled her peridot-green eyes while unbuckling the belt from which her _tarsoly_-her medicine satchel-hung. "I know, I'm sorry. But the children wanted a story."

Bilbo nodded. If Talaitha was late, it was usually because she couldn't resist indulging the children with a tale. But he didn't blame the children for their insistence; he, too, enjoyed her stories. And she had many, for her travels across Middle-earth as a healer allowed her to meet the various races and learn their cultures. For a moment, he remembered Gandalf's offer and imagined seeing the elves and their great realms, but then he shook the unreasonable thought from his head. He was a hobbit, and hobbits didn't like adventure-at least not the respectable ones.

Bilbo set out the chive biscuits he'd baked that morning and some fresh butter to go with their tea. "Which story did you tell them this time?"

"The one about Kund," Talaitha replied before she bit into a biscuit. Though most hobbits were skilled bakers and cooks, Bilbo's biscuits were particularly delicious. Her contentment was evident on her face, and Bilbo smiled.

"What did Gandalf want?" she asked once she'd finished her biscuit and washed it down with tea.

Bilbo almost groaned. He was hoping to never think about that meeting again. But Talaitha's question was innocent enough, especially because she and Gandalf were friends, so he remained polite. "He spoke some nonsense about my going on an adventure."

Talaitha's eyes widened, her teacup forgotten in her hand, as she looked at Bilbo. The hobbit appeared concerned as he asked, "What's wrong?"

She snapped out of her shock and attempted a reassuring smile. It wasn't altogether successful. "Nothing, nothing," she replied. "I just wonder what that old man is up to."

And wonder she did, for a week ago, she had received a visit from Gandalf while in Bree. He hadn't spoken of an adventure, but his blue eyes sparkled mischievously when she mentioned she would be in the Shire for a while. He, of course, knew that whenever she visited the hobbits, she stayed with Bilbo, so his meeting with her a week ago and with Bilbo today could not be coincidence. The wizard was planning something.

Bilbo didn't seem completely convinced, but he was more than happy to let the matter drop. Instead, he ate another biscuit and said, "Szélvész wandered into Brownfoot's garden and ate some of his carrots."

Talaitha nearly choked on her tea. "Bilbo! You're supposed to make sure that _doesn't_ happen."

The hobbit could barely contain his grin. "You know how that mare is," he replied. "If she wants to go, she'll go." Talaitha was about to reprimand him again, but he cut her off. "Besides, no one actually likes Brownfoot. He's a frightful sort."

Now Talaitha smirked. What Bilbo said was true, at least by hobbit standards. He was unsociable, taciturn, and often glared at her. "Still, he doesn't need another reason to dislike me."

Bilbo shrugged. "He can't afford to dislike you," he replied. "Your remedy healed his wife's twisted ankle in half the time."

She smiled and nibbled on a buttered biscuit, reminiscing on the day she'd met Bilbo. It was during her second trip to the Shire seven years ago, right after he'd inherited Bag End. Some of the townspeople already knew of her-whether through her healing or stories-, but Bilbo had not. He'd wanted to meet the strange, copper-haired woman who traveled across Middle-earth with only her black and white horse as a companion. So when he saw her in the market, he boldly introduced himself, and they'd been great friends ever since.

While Bilbo cleared the table, she went into her room to change clothes. Whenever possible, she liked to wear the local fashions of whichever race she visited, because it helped the people trust her if she looked less like a foreigner. That was why she was currently clad in a purple skirt, white blouse, and tan bodice decorated with purple flower designs. She liked the clothes the hobbit women wore, but she still preferred those of her own people. And Bilbo had known her long enough to become quite accustomed to the freer and silkier garments.

She joined Bilbo in his den. They talked about next week's wedding; Peony Hornblower was marrying Alamac Brandybuck. They laughed that a member of the more conservative Hornblower family would be living so close to the Old Forest, which many hobbits believed to be home to dark and dangerous creatures. There were wolves, true, but Talaitha had traveled through it a few times and hadn't encountered anything sinister. Regardless, Peony would be quite safe, as the Brandybucks were one of the toughest families in the Shire. She supposed it was because they lived near wilder lands, so they had to be prepared for potential threats.

After Talaitha recounted a story Ferumbras told her earlier that day, she and Bilbo settled down to read as dusk approached.

#

Bilbo and Talaitha were sitting down for a supper of roast fish and potatoes when the doorbell rang. Talaitha furrowed her eyebrows. "Are you expecting someone else tonight?"

Bilbo's confused expression answered her question. He walked to the entry hall and opened the door. Talaitha remained in the kitchen, but she could hear muffled voices. Just as she was about to get up, a dwarf walked into the kitchen. Talaitha's green eyes widened as her gaze swept over his tattooed, bald head and tall, imposing frame. Well, tall for a dwarf, at least, and certainly taller than she was.

"Evening, lass," the dwarf said, his voice deep and booming. "Dwalin, at your sevice."

Talaitha managed to set aside her surprise. "It's nice to meet you, Dwalin. I'm Talaitha."

Dwalin sat down at the table and began eating her and Bilbo's supper. As she glimpsed Bilbo's incredulous expression, she hoped he wouldn't be too irritated; she wasn't sure how dangerous Dwalin was.

"Very good, this. Any more?" Dwalin asked as he bit off the fish's head. Talaitha's stomach flipped unpleasantly.

"What? Oh, yes, yes," Bilbo replied, offering Dwalin the chive biscuits. "Help yourself." Talaitha grinned as he sneaked two into his robe's pocket. Dwalin ate the remaining biscuits whole. "It's just that, um, I wasn't expecting company."

The doorbell chimed again. "That'll be the door," said Dwalin. Talaitha stayed with Dwalin, watching with a mixture of awe and disgust as he barely chewed the food before swallowing.

Dwalin moved into the den and was fiddling with a jar of pastries when an old, white-haired dwarf with a long beard entered the room. Bilbo mouthed his name to Talaitha, who was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and den.

"Evening, Brother," said Balin, chortling.

Dwalin set down the jar. "By my beard, you are shorter and wider than last we met."

"Wider, not shorter," Balin replied crisply. "Sharp enough for both of us."

The brothers laughed and grasped each other's shoulders, then hit their heads together. Talaitha winced and rubbed her forehead, as if she'd felt the pain the dwarves did not.

"Uh, excuse me. Hate to interrupt, but the thing is, I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house," Bilbo said.

Bilbo and Talaitha followed the two dwarves to the kitchen, where Dwalin helped himself to a mug of ale. The dwarves began inspecting Bilbo's pantry.

"It's not that I don't like visitors. I like visitors as much as the next hobbit, but I _do_ like to know them before they come visiting," Bilbo tried again.

To Talaitha's surprise, Bilbo remained calm when Dwalin tossed a wedge of blue cheese on the floor. "Um, the thing is, I don't know either of you. Not in the slightest. I don't mean to be blunt, but I had to speak my mind. I'm sorry."

During Bilbo's protests, the dwarves had ignored him until the end. Turning to Bilbo, Balin said, "Apology accepted," and smiled.

The doorbell rang for a third time. Bilbo moved to answer it, but Talaitha stopped him. "Allow me."

She opened the door to reveal two young dwarves. One was dark-haired and eyed and beardless, while the other had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a short beard with two braids.

"Fili," said the blonde dwarf.

"And Kili," said the dark one.

"At your service." They bowed in unison.

Kili smiled. "You must be Mrs. Boggins."

Talaitha held back a smirk, but for Bilbo's sake, she attempted to send away Fili and Kili. "No, you can't come in. You've come to the wrong house."

She tried to close the door, but Kili stopped her. "What? Has it been cancelled?" She almost laughed at the concerned expression on his face.

"No one told us," Fili remarked, blue eyes narrowing.

"Cancelled? No, nothing's been cancelled," Talaitha replied, slight irritation tingeing her voice. Then, understanding dawned; this was Gandalf's doing. That meddlesome wizard!

Kili grinned, and Talaitha's bad temper faded; he was rather charming, for a dwarf. "That's a relief."

Fili and Kili pushed past Talaitha, handing her their weapons with the warning to be careful with them because they'd just been sharpened.

"It's nice, this place. Did you do it yourself?" Kili asked.

"Er, no. It's been in the family for years," she replied. Yes, they still thought she was "Mrs. Boggins," but there hadn't been a good time to tell them otherwise. When Talaitha saw Kili wiping the mud from his boots on Bilbo's mother's glory box, she didn't find him quite so charming anymore. She snapped at him to stop.

Talaitha set down Fili's and Kili's weapons and watched as Bilbo's protests about moving the dining table into the hall fell on deaf ears. The doorbell rang a fourth time.

"Oh no. No, no, there's nobody home! Go away and bother somebody else! There's far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is," Bilbo shouted. "If this is some clothead's idea of a joke, I can only say it is in _very_ poor taste." He opened the door, and eight dwarves tumbled into the hall. The gray wizard peeked his head under the doorway.

Bilbo sighed, realization dawning. "Gandalf."


	2. Chapter 2: Dynamic Dinner Party

**I can honestly say I'm beyond overwhelmed by the response for this story! Thank you so, so, so much for the kind reviews and follows; Starfish, your review especially brightened my day (and I think it was a particularly hectic one, hah). **

**Pictures of Talaitha's clothes are on my profile. Might help visualize, especially since describing them is both tedious and apparently in bad writing? My mother's an author, and she's all about "show, don't tell." So that's what I've tried, with limited success. Hence the images. XD**

**Talaitha finally meets Thorin in this chapter, and though it may not seem like it initially, the build-up to their relationship will be gradual. It's more fun to write that way. Plus, I tend to get bored once the couple gets together, hah. **

**Ok, enough preamble. Story time!**

**Disclaimer: I only own Talaitha for now. **

* * *

**Chapter 2: Dynamic Dinner Party**

While the dwarves helped themselves to Bilbo's food, as the hobbit futilely tried to stop them, Talaitha pulled Gandalf into the hall.

"Your little scheme might give Bilbo a heart attack," she remarked casually. Her lips twitched upward in the smallest of smiles.

The wizard grinned. "Then it is very fortunate that a healer is here."

"What is this about, Gandalf?"

His gaze moved to the dwarves, before it settled on Bilbo. "All will be revealed soon, my dear girl," he replied. "But Bilbo will have the opportunity to undertake an important task."

"You mean he'll go on an adventure?" she asked, her curiosity growing.

"A very great one at that." Gandalf smiled at her, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief. "I was pleased to learn that you would be present for this meeting, for I'd hoped you'd agree to the adventure, too."

"I _knew_ you were up to something that day in Bree!" Talaitha said with a self-satisfied smirk. "I'm curious about this quest, but come, we've left Bilbo alone with the dwarves for too long." She turned as if to walk away, then faced Gandalf once more. "It's good to see you, old man," she said, eliciting a chuckle from the wizard. Standing on her tiptoes, she embraced him. Gandalf crouched down and returned the hug, patting her back affectionately.

Gandalf and Talaitha joined the others as they set the table in the dining room. She paid special attention when Gandalf counted all the dwarves; there were twelve in total. She struggled to remember their names. She knew Balin, Dwalin, Fili, and Kili, but the rest remained a mystery. She did, however, note that Bifur had an ax in his head and only spoke Khuzdul; he probably wouldn't be the ideal conversationalist, since her knowledge of Khuzdul was marginal at best.

When the dwarves began eating, Talaitha suddenly wished she were elsewhere. Food tumbled from their mouths as they talked and guffawed. She dodged the food that was thrown to each other in attempts to catch it in their mouths. Bombur actually succeeded, though bits of boiled egg fell onto his red, braided beard as he chewed. Talaitha turned away in mild disgust, only for her gaze to meet Fili's knees as he stood on the table offering her an ale. She accepted it. _Well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em_, she thought as she took a large gulp.

Throughout the meal, she had exchanged introductions with all the dwarves, and Kili had pulled her beside him on the bench. "You don't have hairy feet, so you're not a hobbit. You're obviously not a dwarf, though you're of similar height. Your ears are slightly pointed, so you're not human. But you're too small to be an elf," he said, as his eyes roved from her face to her clothes, the latter of which particularly held his interest. "And you wear strange garb. So what are you?"

Talaitha smirked. She liked this young dwarf. "That's my little secret," she replied with a wink.

"Ah, the little minx has a little secret." Kili chuckled. "I'll let you keep it...for now." He winked back.

While the dwarves were distracted chugging their ale in unison, Talaitha snuck out of the dining room to Bilbo, who was staring forlornly at his nearly empty pantry. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"We'll go to the market tomorrow, and you'll never even know the pantry was bare," she said. "And I'll make sure the dwarves clean up." Bilbo covered her hand with his, then turned to her. He handed her one of the biscuits he'd rescued from Dwalin earlier. Talaitha smiled in thanks as she ate it.

Now that the dwarves had literally eaten Bilbo out of house and home, they filtered out of the dining room. While Bilbo tried to explain to Bofur the difference between a doily and a dish cloth, Talaitha pulled Fili and Kili-her two favorites-aside.

She folded her arms and regarded them with a steely gaze. "You lot had better clean up this mess."

Kili smirked. "Oh, we'll clean it up. Right, Brother?"

Fili adopted a matching smirk. "Of course," he replied. "Don't you worry, Miss Talaitha."

Talaitha glanced warily between the brothers, certain they were planning some mischief. But they had agreed to clean up, so she pushed aside her doubts.

Ori, the youngest dwarf, approached Bilbo. "Excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?" he asked.

"There you go, Ori, give it to me." Fili took the plate and threw it to Kili, who threw it to Bifur in the kitchen. More dwarves joined in, and, as Bilbo protested, plates and mugs went sailing through the air before being caught by Fili and Kili. Despite having to dodge a couple wayward mugs, Talaitha was impressed; the young brothers had even used their elbows and knees to bounce bowls. When they started singing about blunting knives, bending forks, smashing bottles, and other ways to destroy Bilbo's kitchen, she was quite entertained. And when Bofur played the tune on his fife, and Óin on a teapot, she was laughing and clapping along to the rhythm. Before she knew it, the clean dishes and silverware were stacked fairly neatly in the center of the table.

The merriment ended when three, loud knocks sounded on the door. Gandalf grew serious. "He is here."

Talaitha followed the dwarves into the entry hall, curious who the latecomer was. Gandalf opened the door to reveal a thirteenth dwarf, but Talaitha couldn't see him very clearly yet.

"Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way twice," said the new dwarf, his voice so deep and smooth that it sent shivers up Talaitha's spine. "I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door."

Bilbo stepped forward, disgruntled. "Mark? There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago."

Gandalf closed the door. "There _is_ a mark. I put it there myself." He sounded sheepish. He glanced between the hobbit and the new dwarf. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our Company, Thorin Oakenshield."

Thorin examined Bilbo, but Talaitha wasn't listening to their conversation, though she vaguely heard Bilbo mention he was good at conkers. Her attention was focused on Thorin, who seemed different from the other dwarves. He was quite a bit taller than the rest, except Dwalin. Black hair, streaked slightly with silver, flowed over his shoulders, unadorned save for two, small braids on either side. He had a shorter beard than most of the others. His demeanor was stately, almost regal, and as he turned his head toward her, Talaitha's lips parted slightly in surprise. Ice-blue eyes gazed back at her for a moment, before he led his kin into the dining room.

She didn't follow. Although Thorin didn't appear nearly as battle-ready as Dwalin, he nevertheless intimidated and perplexed her. Underneath his controlled exterior, Talaitha sensed a detached coldness but also a fiery anger. It was times like these when she wished she couldn't read others' emotions so easily. She would have preferred to admire Thorin's handsome features, instead of to wonder what had caused such conflicting feelings.

When she heard Balin ask about a meeting in Ered Luin, she inched closer, standing just out of sight behind the entrance to the dining room.

"They will not come," said Thorin. Disappointed sighs filled the room. "They say this quest is ours, and ours alone."

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo asked.

As reply, Gandalf asked him for more light. When Talaitha heard Bilbo say "the Lonely Mountain," as though he were reading it, her curiosity got the better of her, and she moved to stand between Bilbo and Gandalf. She was too intrigued by the map that laid on the table to notice Thorin's glance flit to her for a few seconds. Her skin prickled with excitement; she had heard whispers of the tale of Smaug and his attack on Dale and the dwarves of Erebor, though she did not know the specifics. It suddenly dawned on her that Thorin was the prince who helped his people escape the dragon. _He_ was the wandering dwarf blacksmith who she'd heard so much about during her travels. She sucked in a breath, then blushed as the dwarves turned to her.

To Talaitha's relief, Glóin began talking about portents and Smaug, which effectively drew the dwarves' attention from her. And when Balin insinutated that some of the dwarves were too dim-witted for the quest, Talaitha was soon forgotten. To up their morale, Kili said that Gandalf had killed hundreds of dragons, and when the wizard was asked how many, he coughed on smoke from his pipe. And then, though Talaitha wasn't sure why, the dwarves broke out into an argument, which was only quelled after Thorin shouted in Khuzdul.

"If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have, too?" The dwarves listened somberly to Thorin. "Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?" His voice rose in pitch and volume, and he held up a determined fist. As she watched the dwarves cheer, Talaitha had to admit Thorin was passionate underneath that stoicism.

Gandalf handed Thorin a large, silver key and spoke about a hidden entrance into Erebor. Now she understood why Gandalf had chosen Bilbo for this particular adventure. He would be the dwarves' burglar, would sneak into Erebor and steal back their treasure-though Talaitha was skeptical he could steal much of it by himself. She heard Bilbo insisting he was not a burglar and pitied him. His house had been invaded by twelve rowdy dwarves and a scheming wizard, his food had been eaten, he'd been enlisted for a dangerous quest without his knowledge, and she was sure Thorin had insulted him at some point. Bilbo was a good person who enjoyed his quiet, bucolic life; he shouldn't have had it turned upside down.

Talaitha was pulled from her reverie when the room darkened and Gandalf's voice boomed in defense of Bilbo. After Thorin reluctantly agreed to include the hobbit in his quest, Balin gave Bilbo a contract. She was about to follow Bilbo into the hall, when her sharp hearing caught Thorin's murmured words to Gandalf. "I cannot guarantee his safety. Nor will I be responsible for his fate." Talaitha scowled. It was Thorin's quest; if he was not responsible for Bilbo, then who on Middle-earth was?

Talaitha's attention was drawn once again to Bilbo as he read the word "incineration" in the contract. He looked aghast. Bofur made the situation worse as he explained in great detail what would happen to Bilbo if Smaug should breathe fire on him. "Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye."

Bilbo made a frightened noise, which prompted Balin to ask, "You alright, laddie?"

"I feel a bit faint," Bilbo replied. Talaitha saw he was trying to remain calm.

Bofur stood. "Think furnace with wings."

"Air. I need air." The hobbit looked like he was about to be sick.

"Flash of light, searing pain, then _poof_, you're nothing more than a pile of ash," Bofur once again supplied. For a moment, it looked as though Bilbo would be fine, but then he fainted and hit the floor with a _thud_.

"Oh, well done," Talaitha snapped at Bofur and, with a rustle of her cornflower blue and purple skirt, rushed to Bilbo. With Gandalf's help, she moved Bilbo to an armchair in the den. A few minutes later, the hobbit came to. She handed him a cup of tea and, with a pointed glance at Gandalf, walked into the hall.

She started as a deep, firm voice addressed her from behind. "And who are you?"

Talaitha faced the speaker. Thorin towered over her, and her eyes widened when she met his intense, wary gaze. For a few seconds, Thorin was thrown off, too, but he hid it so quickly that Talaitha didn't notice. The flame of the candle reflected in her peridot-green eyes and made her curly hair look like molten copper. His glance lingered on her silver necklace, then moved down to her clothes. They were strange, indeed, and rather brazen, especially her blouse, which was low-cut and sheer at her midriff.

Talaitha fidgeted under his scrutiny, so he looked at her face again with an expectant expression. She realized he was awaiting her answer. "I'm Talaitha Borvirág." Then she added quickly, "Talaitha Borage in the Common Tongue." She spoke with a faint accent, but it wasn't one Thorin had heard before, and he'd traveled Middle-earth extensively after Smaug had driven his people from Erebor.

He glanced at her slightly pointed ears, the left of which was pierced four times and the right, three times. His eyebrows rose in surprise; only dwarven and haradrim women were known to bear multiple piercings in their ears, and she was definitely neither. Then he looked more closely at her necklace; on a silver chain, hung a locket painted with a colorful, floral design. Though he didn't know its origin, the design looked simultaneously familiar and foreign.

"You are not of Middle-earth, are you?" he asked gruffly.

Talaitha was startled by his blunt question, but she met his gaze steadily. "No, I am not."


	3. Chapter 3: The All-Seeing Wizard

Hi! *waves*

I apologize that it's been over a week since I updated this story. I've been swamped with school and work, as I've been preparing my presentation for the physical anthropology conference in Tennessee this April. Hah. It's still a bit surreal that my abstract was accepted, so yeah... been busy with that and finishing my thesis (since that's what I'm presenting at the conference). But it's spring break! And even though I have jury duty that I couldn't wriggle out of, I'll have more time to write! :) Hopefully...

Second, thank you for the new reviews, favorites, and follows! Sesshomaru's Babydoll: I about squealed when I read your review! PouringRain-BlazingStorm: A kindred spirit! Yeah, Thorin/Talaitha will be a bit of a slow-burn, as this chapter will show, I think. One step forward, one back. Angellic dragon: Thorin (and the rest of the dwarves) will find out soon enough. ;) That scene will reveal lots of info about Talaitha.

Third, there is a bit more of Talaitha's language in this chapter. _Szürkevándorló_ means "gray pilgrim/wanderer" in Hungarian, so it's a translation of "Gandalf" and "Mithrandir."

Next update should be in less than a week!

Disclaimer: I only own Talaitha, her horse, and the Szelemér that I've bastardized from Hungarian myth.

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**Chapter 3: The All-Seeing Wizard**

Out of the corner of her eye, Talaitha saw Balin walk into the hall. She took the old dwarf's arrival as an opportunity to avoid a more detailed answer to Thorin's question and retreated into the den. She met Bilbo on his way out but didn't ask him about his conversation with Gandalf; judging from his unhappy expression, it hadn't gone well. Instead, she flashed him a smile, which he briefly returned, and let him withdraw into his bedroom.

Some of the dwarves were standing in the den smoking their pipes. Out of curiosity, Talaitha had tried pipe weed once while visiting the hobbits, and although she'd hated the taste, the slightly sweet aroma wasn't unpleasant. Ori appeared by her side and shyly asked about her locket. She explained that it was an heirloom passed down by the women in her family, and that it was her most treasured possession. Emboldened by Talaitha's warm smile, he praised the simple beauty of the painted design and told her that he enjoyed art, too. She asked to see his drawings, to which Ori eagerly agreed, and she listened as he told her the stories behind some of them.

Not long after Talaitha sat down in an armchair, Thorin joined them to stand by the fireplace. Low hums saturated the room, and Thorin began singing so deeply and richly that she could almost feel the timbre of his voice. On the second stanza, some of the other dwarves joined in. She listened, transfixed by the hauntingly beautiful melody. The lyrics recounted how Smaug had stolen Erebor, and she could almost see the devastation he'd wreaked. The dwarves sang as if the song were sacred, and Talaitha supposed that to them it _was_. Her eyes were drawn to Thorin once more, and when she saw the sadness on his face, her heart constricted. She could no longer think ill of him, for Talaitha knew then that he was utterly committed to his people and their plight.

After the song ended, Thorin went outside. When Talaitha was sure the dwarves wouldn't notice her disappearance, she followed him. As she passed Gandalf, she scowled at the knowing look on his face. She suspected he was somehow aware of her thoughts about the dwarf king.

Talaitha found Thorin standing by the front gate with his eyes to the stars. He didn't acknowledge her arrival, and minutes of silence elapsed before she'd gathered enough courage to speak to him.

"You sing beautifully," she said softly.

Thorin finally glanced at her, his gaze flicking from her barely concealed midriff to her locket and face. She knew he was trying to discern her race, and she felt a small jolt of satisfaction as she realized she wasn't the only one set off-balance. With this knowledge, she felt much bolder.

"What you set out to do is brave and noble," she remarked with a small smile. "Your people are fortunate to have such a leader."

When Thorin looked at her again, his expression was much gentler than a few moments ago. But before he could reply, the front door opened and Gandalf walked through. Talaitha and Thorin turned to him.

"I'd like to speak to Talaitha alone, if you don't mind," said Gandalf cheerfully. Thorin nodded and, with a final glance at the woman, went inside.

"He's a particularly stubborn dwarf," Gandalf said pensively. "But I fear even that will not be enough to reclaim Erebor."

Talaitha sighed. "Of course it won't be. Thirteen dwarves and a potential hobbit against a dragon?" she replied, looking at the wizard. "Those are not favorable odds."

Gandalf nodded. "Which is why they will need a strong healer at the end of their journey." He watched her closely to gauge her reaction.

"You do realize you are asking me to face a dragon, don't you?" A brow quirked in amusement. She was silent for a few minutes and tried to ignore the wizard's expectant gaze. Though Talaitha had encountered and fended off wild animals during her travels, a dragon was a different beast entirely. Gandalf wasn't expecting her to fight it, of course, but she would probably be near it if she had to heal someone. Then she remembered the dwarves' song and, more poignantly, Thorin's loyalty to his people. Could she sit by, safe from harm, while the dwarves fought for their home?

"Thorin will not have me in his Company," Talaitha said slowly. "He doesn't trust me. He doesn't even know what I am."

Gandalf gave her a pointed look. "That is not for lack of curiosity."

"You see far too much for your own good, wizard," she replied sharply, though the smirk on her lips softened her retort.

Gandalf chuckled. "Thorin will accept you. It may require a bit of charm and a display of your skills, but he will agree."

"I will go," said Talaitha. "But I must stop in Chetwood first."

Gandalf held back a grin. He knew she'd agree. "Meet us in Imladris. The Company has business with Lord Elrond, though they do not yet know it."

She laughed, almost pitying the dwarves, for she knew of their aversion toward elves. "Sometimes you are as impish as a child, Szürkevándorló."

Gandalf smiled fondly at her name for him. It meant the same as Gandalf and Mithrandir, but it was in the language of her people, which she only uttered around those she trusted.

"Indeed," he replied. "Now let us rejoin the Company!"

Talaitha followed Gandalf into the house and seated herself in her favorite armchair. She sank into the plush fabric, resting her head against the arm, and watched the dwarves. Balin and Dwalin exchanged stories of what they'd done since last they met. Bombur had scrounged up some bread and cheese. Fili and Kili were laughing with Bifur and Bofur, while Ori wrote in his book. Talaitha grew drowsy, and her eyelids began to droop. She fought to remain awake, but the sweet scent of Gandalf's pipe smoke and the low din of the dwarves' conversations soon lulled her to sleep.

Thorin was listening to Balin plan their journey, but his attention had shifted to the small figure curled up in an armchair. He waited until Balin finished, then walked over to Talaitha. She had chosen an armchair that was mostly in the shadows, so Thorin felt safe that the dwarves wouldn't see his next action. He took off his coat and draped it over Talaitha's sleeping form. The corners of his mouth quirked slightly as she snuggled into the garment, and he resisted the urge to touch one of the copper curls that had freed itself from her braided bun. With a shake of his head and a final glance at the woman, Thorin rejoined his kin.

None of the dwarves had seen his thoughtful gesture, but Gandalf had. And he smiled.


	4. Chapter 4: He's Going on an Adventure!

Hi!

I kept my promise; I'm updating in less than a week! For some reason, though, I always seem to update and write in the wee hours of morning (it's 2:30 AM here)... Ah well.

As always, thank you for the fantastic response to this story. *Hugs everyone.*

loveorpain: Lol, I wouldn't say "love at first sight." Maybe intrigue at first sight?

TheStarfish: I giggle gleefully when I get the e-mails that someone's favorited, followed, or reviewed this story, so if you're vain, so am I. *shrugs* You're too kind. As for Thorin's attitude towards Talaitha, it's not too difficult to keep him in-character when he barely speaks to her. XD Someone's always interrupting them for a reason. ;) I'm manipulative like that. T rejoining them in Rivendell has a purpose; you'll find out a bit of it in this chapter.

Malffinka: Thank you!

NavyReservist: I shall never abandon this story. It's too near and dear to my heart. I will finish it even if it kills me (which it just might)! XD I'm just awfully busy lately.

Karana: *dances and prances* A fellow Hungarian! So it's my language, too. :) I just thought since (sadly) no one really writes about Hungarian mythology/folklore, this story would be unique in that way at least.

My profile has character pictures and a pronunciation guide with audio of the Hungarian names/words.

I'll shut up now and disclaim that I only own the things Tolkien does not. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 4: He's Going on an Adventure!**

The next morning, Talaitha awoke feeling much warmer than when she'd fallen asleep. A soft but heavy garment laid on her, and the smell of pipe smoke, something faintly musky, and the earth reached her nose. It was a comforting and distinctly male scent. As she sat up, a leather coat slipped from her shoulders. _Ah, that explains it_, she mused with a smile. Then she felt the fur around the collar and, with a start, realized the coat was Thorin's. She was alone in the den now, but surely the dwarves had seen her asleep in Thorin's coat when they'd awoken. A blush crept into her cheeks. She tugged on the coat, avoiding the kitchen where the dwarves were preparing breakfast, and went outside.

She found Thorin readying the ponies. Szélvész nickered a greeting at her, which drew the dwarf's attention. He smirked when he saw how large his coat was on her, how the sleeves drowned her arms and the bottom hem brushed the grass. And, though he didn't know why, the sight sent a tendril of warmth through him.

"Good morning," said Thorin.

"Good morning," Talaitha replied, smiling. She shrugged off the coat and held it out to Thorin. "Thank you. It kept me quite warm during the night."

Thorin nodded as he took his coat. Talaitha approached Szélvész and stroked her velvety nose. The small, black and white horse affectionately nuzzled Talaitha's cheek, and the woman's smile grew into a grin.

"So she's yours then," Thorin remarked with a scowl.

Talaitha's arm slid protectively around Szélvész's neck, and she frowned. "Yes, she's mine."

"She nearly bit me," Thorin grumbled good-naturedly. He'd noticed the downturn of her mouth, and for some reason, a small part of him cared that he'd offended her.

Talaitha studied him for a few moments, then chuckled. "Ah, yes. Szélvész is a bit wary of strangers," she replied. She turned to the mare and lightly admonished her with a poke to her nose, earning a playful nudge in response. "He's a king, you know. Be nice."

The horse eyed Thorin dubiously, as though she'd understood her mistress' words, but whinnied softly at him. Thorin felt that a truce had settled between them. Before he could voice his surprise, Kili poked his head out the door to tell them breakfast was ready.

There was enough food left to make a decent meal of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and tomatoes, and Talaitha made sure to save Bilbo a plate. After they finished breakfast, Talaitha helped the dwarves clean up both the kitchen and the rest of the house, smiling once it bore no evidence of last night's mess.

She followed the Company outside as they mounted their ponies, which were only slightly smaller than Szélvész. She concealed a smirk; the ponies-though cute-were as furry as their masters. When Bifur and Bombur moved too close to Szélvész, her ears flattened suspiciously. Talaitha flashed her a pointed look; the mare snorted but left the dwarves alone.

"I wish you all a safe and successful journey," said Talaitha, standing before the mounted dwarves and wizard. Her gaze swept over them, then rested on Thorin. "May the blessings of Aulë and all the Valar go with you."

The dwarves thanked her and bid her farewell, but she shared a sly smile with Gandalf; she would be seeing them again quite soon. Thorin was last to acknowledge her, giving her a small nod and a lingering glance, before leading the Company from Bag End. Talaitha watched them go, until they disappeared around the bend.

By the time she went inside, Bilbo was awake and exploring his house. She watched in amusement as he poked his head into the fireplace, but she had no idea _what_ he was expecting to find in there. He finally seemed to notice her.

"Everything's clean," he remarked in awe. "How?"

Talaitha shrugged. "Dwarves aren't all bad."

Bilbo nodded and moved to the hall. As Talaitha came up behind him, he was staring at the contract on a table. She was silent for a few moments, then said, "Come, I saved you breakfast."

She warmed up the bacon and eggs in a pan over the fire and sat with Bilbo while he ate. Neither spoke during the meal; Bilbo seemed pensive, and Talaitha was content to leave him to his thoughts. Once he'd finished eating, Bilbo remarked, "So they've gone on their quest."

"It would appear so," Talaitha replied lightly. She watched him closely as he looked outside the window. "Don't you want to _use _your maps and _meet_ the people from your books?"

Startled by her sudden question, Bilbo's attention shifted to her. He hesitated for a moment, then said, "I don't even know how to fight."

Talaitha shrugged. "You'll learn. I did."

"Need I remind you that there's a dragon waiting at the end of it?" A shadow passed across Bilbo's face.

She nodded. "There is. But remember how many times you've unintentionally sneaked up on me? Smaug might not even notice you're there."

"It'll be cold, dirty, and wet," Bilbo protested one last time. "And I'll have to sleep on the ground."

"Yes," she replied. "But you'll also get to see the wonders of Middle-earth-the elves, Rivendell, and Erebor restored to its former glory."

Bilbo considered her words, but Talaitha had seen the spark of excitement in his eyes. She knew his decision before he voiced it. "Yes," he said resolutely. He rushed about the house, packing quickly. He signed the contract and stuffed it into his bag. "Aren't you coming?" he asked.

"No, Bilbo. I received a message yesterday from Chetwood about two snakebite victims who aren't responding to the treatment," she replied. "But we will meet again soon." She smiled fondly as he stood by the door, a determined expression on his face. He was about to be the first hobbit in centuries to do something that may earn him a place in history.

But Bilbo wasn't so carried away with the prospect of adventure that he forgot to remind her to lock the door when she left. Talaitha chuckled and pulled the hobbit into a hug, which he returned, smiling.

When she released him, he cleared his throat and said, "Right, I suppose I'll be off now. I've a bit of catching up to do, I imagine."

They said their goodbyes, and he was off, sprinting down the path and leaping over fences. The world, with all its wonders and perils, laid ahead.


	5. Chapter 5: Consequences of Carelessness

I'm so sorry for the late update; I'm currently drowning in classes and work. The past two days were spent overseeing the excavation of a body from under a concrete floor. That, and I was sick over the weekend, so I fell behind on my writing. But I've got the 6th chapter written, and I'll start the 7th after I post this. :)

As usual I'd like to thank you all for the favorites, follows, and reviews! *hugs*

Whiterose02: Well Thorin can't always be a grump. :) But I tried to keep in character, even when he was being kind to Talaitha. He's less thrilled with her in this chapter, though, haha.

TheStarfish: Yes, I am quite fond of that horse. XD She's a scene-stealer, that one. And there'll be more interludes like that that aren't in the film. I mostly used the film as a guide (because I'm crap at plot pacing), especially towards the beginning, and as a way of integrating Talaitha.

3einsteinComplex: Love the name! And thank you. :) Thorin's in for quite the surprise.

Images and pronunciation guides are on my profile; check them out, because I'm sadistic and enjoy peppering this story with obscure Hungarian words. ;)

Finally, in this chapter you get your first glimpse of Talaitha-the-healer, as opposed to Talaitha-the-tag-along. She's quite handy in a medical emergency, so while she's still a tag-along, at least she won't be a useless one? And Grumpy (AKA Thorin) has an amusing internal battle_. _Or at least it was amusing to write it...

Mmk, I'll shut up now. *skips away to write chapter 7*

Disclaimer: I only own Talaitha, Szélvész, and the other names that don't belong to Tolkien and Jackson.

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**Chapter 5: Consequences of Carelessness**

Not long after Bilbo had embarked on his journey, Talaitha and Szélvész were on the East-West Road heading swiftly for Bree. After a quick restocking of supplies, they turned north toward Chetwood and by midday, had reached Archet.

The residents of Archet were human, though a few hobbits, probably in the town for trade, waved at her as she hurried to the healers. Most of the people knew her, or at least knew the soft, brown leather dress she often wore on her medicine runs. Even if her face was unfamiliar to someone, the dress was quickly recognized as that of the wandering healer. The garment was far from beautiful, but Talaitha was quite fond of it, partly because blood was easier to clean from it than from other fabrics. Perhaps a morbid reasoning, but she'd become far more pragmatic about her clothes since beginning her travels.

A healer named Thamina rushed out of the house that served as the town's infirmary and sighed with relief. "Thank goodness you are here," she said. "One of them's taken a bad turn."

Talaitha followed Thamina into the house and grimaced at the sight that met her. Both snakebite victims laid unconscious on a cot, their skin pallid and slicked with sweat. The first man's hand had tripled in size, and a large ulcer covered part of it; the second man's foot looked the same but was also mottled with greenish-black splotches. The skin was beginning to necrotize, and she knew neither had more than a day before succumbing to the snake venom.

She wasted no more time with observation. Crouching, she placed her hands on the first man's bare chest and closed her eyes. The skin where she touched him grew warm, and his heartbeat quickened slightly as a tendril of energy passed to him. Abruptly, Talaitha opened her eyes and removed her hands, then focused on the second man. He was in much worse condition. She repeated the energy transfer, but it took a bit more to sustain him. This process didn't heal them, merely helped them along by giving them enough strength and time for the medicine to purge the venom from their systems.

Next, Talaitha requested hot water, clean cloths, and alcohol be brought. The herbal antivenom would prevent the snake venom from causing further harm, but it wouldn't reverse the damage already present. The man with the gangrenous foot required immediate attention. For him to avoid fatal blood poisoning, she would have to cut away the dead tissue, a task she always dreaded performing. After cleaning her hands in the town's strongest liquor, she soaked two cloths in it and used one on the man's foot, then the second on the other man's hand. The alcohol would numb the pain and protect against infection. After dousing a sharp knife in the alcohol, Talaitha steeled herself with a few deep breaths, then cut into the foot. The smell of rotting flesh pervaded the room, and Talaitha tried to breathe as little as possible. She was careful to only incise the necrotized tissue, but even so, nearly a fourth of the man's foot was gone when she finished. Thamina took over; she cleaned the open wound with hot water, dabbed it with the alcohol, administered a healing salve, and wrapped it in a bandage.

Talaitha moved on to the first man's hand, which thankfully hadn't become gangrenous yet. She wouldn't have to remove flesh, but the ulcer nevertheless concerned her. It would heal, but it required multiple daily cleanings and dressings, or else infection could set in and lead to necrosis. She rubbed Thamina's healing paste on the ulcer and bandaged it, leaving Archet's healers with instructions to rewrap both the hand and the other man's foot at least five times daily.

Talaitha pulled Thamina aside while the other healers finished treating the men. "What happened, Thamina? They should not have deteriorated this much."

The other healer sighed. "Our venom-purifying tonic is very effective, as you know," Thamina replied. "But only when administered immediately after being bitten. Over three hours elapsed before these men received treatment because they were so far out in the marshes."

"I thought people who worked in the marshes took a phial of the antivenom with them," said Talaitha, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

Thamina nodded and glanced at the two men. "Ordinarily, yes," she replied. "But for whatever reason, these men did not."

Talaitha was silent and pensive. That explained the gangrene and the ulcer. She was reassured that the medicine remained potent, but the men's apparent carelessness concerned her. If she hadn't been nearby in Hobbiton, they would not have survived; she had felt their bodies failing while the antivenom worked too slowly. They would live now, and she was glad for that, yet their recklessness angered her.

Thamina saw Talaitha's eyes harden as she watched the men. She placed a hand on Talaitha's arm, smiling. "When they awake, I'm sure they'll have learned their lesson."

"Aye, but at what cost?" Talaitha asked. "Thankfully no amputation was required, but the man may never regain full use of his foot."

"Perhaps not. But he is alive and will recover," Thamina said firmly. "And at the end of the day, that's what matters."

For a moment, it looked like Talaitha would continue her pessimistic remarks, but then she nodded, apparently placated. She'd done her job. The men would be in good hands with Thamina.

After bidding Thamina and the other healers farewell, Talaitha exited the healing house to find Szélvész surrounded by a group of children, who were braiding her mane and tail and feeding her apples. Talaitha laughed. The usually spirited mare was happily basking in the attention and occasionally nuzzling the children. For all her distrust of strangers, Szélvész was gentle around little ones.

Talaitha grinned. "Spoiling my horse, are you?" The children giggled and proudly showed her Szélvész's new braids. "Very pretty!" she said. "But I'm afraid I'm going to need her back now."

The children voiced their disappointment but relinquished Szélvész, who snorted when Talaitha pulled herself onto her back. "Hush, you," she scolded lightly. With a gentle nudge to her flanks, the mare broke into a gallop, heading east. Talaitha was confident they would reach Rivendell by tomorrow evening, especially since they'd avoid the more populated roads by arcing over the Weather Hills. That, and Szélvész, whose name meant "wind storm," was unusually swift for such a small horse. She'd even kept pace with the wild mearas, a sight which astonished the Rohirrim, for the mearas were the fastest horses in Middle-earth.

As they rode on, Talaitha's thoughts turned to Thorin's Company; she wondered where they were now and how Bilbo was handling being away from the comforts of Bag End. She smirked as she imagined how put-out he must have been at having to ride a pony. Hobbits had ponies, of course, but they preferred to walk whenever possible. Talaitha had never understood why, for she thoroughly enjoyed being horseback. She never felt freer than when she was astride Szélvész with her hair wild and trailing in the breeze. With that thought, she tightened her hands around the mare's mane and watched the Weather Hills pass in a blur.

#

Meanwhile, Bilbo was indeed struggling with his pony. After Fili and Kili had hoisted him up onto the beast, he'd been startled by every movement she made and had sneezed from the horse hair. To make matters worse, he'd forgotten his handkerchief at home. Bofur, ever the helpful dwarf, had torn the bottom of his tunic and tossed it to Bilbo, who tried to hide his disgust of the coarse fabric. In the end, however, the sneezing became too much, and the hobbit was forced to use the makeshift handkerchief.

Thorin was in a predicament of his own. A clean, floral scent-lilac perhaps-lingered on his coat from when Talaitha had slept in it, and he was surprised that he found the aroma pleasing. He smirked as he imagined what his men would think should they, too, notice he smelled of flowers. Fili and Kili might jest about it, but the rest would remain silent out of respect, even if they were amused. After all, no one, not even his nephews, had spoken about Thorin's uncharacteristically kind gesture, though he was sure they'd all seen Talaitha wrapped in his coat in the morning.

"Aren't we stopping for lunch?"

Bilbo's question pulled Thorin from his reverie, and he scowled. He knew he'd regret agreeing to the hobbit's inclusion. He let Gandalf answer Bilbo; his reply wouldn't have been very polite anyway.

Thorin heard two ponies trotting up behind him to where the hobbit and the wizard were. "So how long have you known Talaitha?" Fili asked Bilbo.

"Seven years," Bilbo replied flatly. He was still lamenting missing lunch. And he was slightly cross Talaitha had abandoned him after persuading him to join the quest.

The smirk could be heard in Kili's voice as he said, "That's long enough to find out quite a bit about her." He paused for effect. Then, "Such as where she's from."

That piqued Thorin's interest. He was just as curious about Talaitha's ancestry as his nephews, but his pride wouldn't allow him to question Bilbo or Gandalf. It was enough that he'd given her his coat for the night; he wasn't going to jeopardize the respect of his men by admitting she'd intrigued him.

"If she hasn't told you herself, I certainly won't," Bilbo replied primly.

"But how can she tell us when we probably won't see her again?" Fili asked, and Kili nodded. It was a fair question.

Bilbo shrugged. "You might," he said. "Before I left, she told me we'd meet again soon." He looked curiously at Gandalf, but the wizard didn't appear to notice. Thorin, too, glanced at Gandalf but was also ignored.

Kili chuckled. "What, you think she'll turn up in Erebor?" Sarcasm tinged his voice, but Bilbo took the question seriously.

"I wouldn't be surprised," the hobbit answered. "She's traveled all over Middle-earth. What's to stop her from coming to Erebor?"

"A dragon, Master Baggins," Thorin said brusquely. "And a complete lack of purpose." He'd grown weary of the conversation once he'd realized the hobbit wouldn't divulge Talaitha's race. And he was irritated that his thoughts kept straying to her. It was uncharacteristic and foolish. He should be thinking of more important things, like defeating Smaug and reclaiming Erebor, instead of a foreign woman he'd probably never see again.

Gandalf ducked his head to conceal his grin. Bilbo noticed but said nothing. It seemed Gandalf and Talaitha had made plans, and out of respect for his friend, he would remain quiet. He just hoped that when they were revealed, the already cantankerous dwarf king wouldn't be too angry.


	6. Chapter 6: Elflings and Poetry

Hi!

I don't know how long it's been since chapter 5, but I don't _think_ I'm late in posting this. *crosses fingers*

Good lord, ya'll. This story has 101 follows! I am beyond grateful and thrilled that you all seem to be enjoying it. It's a joy to write, let me tell you, even the tough parts (like chapter 7).

3insteinComplex: Thank you! I wanted Talaitha to have a history with Middle-earth before she joins the Company because, yeah, single-faceted characters never interested me much. I'm trying to make her as dynamic and realistic as possible...or as realistic as a fantasy creature can be. XD

No Thorin in this chapter (sorry!). It's more of an interlude, a bit of calm and cuteness before the dwarves arrive. ;) Plus, I really enjoyed writing this chapter because you get another glimpse into Talaitha's life before the Company. And I love Elrond and elf children. XD

Reminder that on my profile, you'll find images and pronunciations for this story.

Oh, and who got their _Hobbit_ DVD today? I did! I'm about to go watch it after pining for it all day, though I _should_ be sleeping instead. But Middle-earth is much better than sleep. XD

Disclaimer: In this chapter, at least, I only own Talaitha and Szélvész. I won't be greedy and claim the elflings, too; that's sort of like child slavery, isn't it. Sorry, strange mood...

*skips off*

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**Chapter 6: Elflings and Poetry**

On the morning of the second day, the heavens let loose such a deluge that Talaitha was sure she and Szélvész would be swimming to Rivendell. The mud squelched under the mare's hooves and splattered on her coat as she galloped across the plains to the Hoarwell River. Talaitha's leather dress offered her body some protection from the rain, but her hood-covered hair was soaked and clinging to her face. No matter how many times she'd angrily peeled away the wet strands, the wind whipped them back. In the end, she'd surrendered to the elements and resigned herself to looking like some sort of drowned, ginger creature.

By the time they'd crossed the Bruinen-the Loudwater River-, the rain had stopped. Talaitha breathed a sigh of relief as Szélvész descended into the valley in which Rivendell was nestled. At that moment, the elvish city was the most beautiful sight to Talaitha's eyes; it was as much a home to her as any place in Middle-earth. She had spent many years with Lord Elrond, for his healing talents were rivaled only by her own.

As she glanced around the valley, she knew scouts had already alerted Elrond to her arrival. Her conjecture was confirmed when she saw the elf waiting for her in a courtyard. Szélvész whinnied a greeting and trotted to Elrond, who stroked her nose before helping Talaitha dismount.

"Every time I come here, that mare seems happier to see you than she ever does me," Talaitha grumbled and patted the horse's flank. As if to prove her mistress's point, Szélvész ignored her and nudged Elrond's hand.

His eyebrow quirked in amusement. "Elves have an affinity with all creatures, especially horses," he said. Then he grew serious. "I was not expecting to see you again so soon." He watched her with a concerned expression as she unloaded her packs from Szélvész.

"I am quite well, though I look bedraggled," she assured with a smile. "It's the rain's fault."

Elrond returned her smile and took her leather packs, which had thankfully remained undamaged by the rain and mud. Szélvész was led to the stables, where she would be bathed and fed. It was times like these when Talaitha couldn't believe the mare had once been wild, for she thoroughly enjoyed being spoiled, especially by children.

Talaitha, too, bathed. As a traveling healer, she had few opportunities for such comforts, so she took advantage of them when they were offered. _And Rivendell certainly has no shortage of luxuries_, she thought as she immersed herself into the sunk-in stone of the bath. Crystal bottles of scented body and hair soaps lined the bath. Talaitha grinned and chose the lilac soap, for it reminded her of home. The longer she was away, the more her heart yearned to return. Perhaps that was why she spent so much time in Rivendell; though Talaitha adored the Shire and its people, Imladris was most similar to her home because its healing arts were more advanced than any in Middle-earth. That was due solely to Elrond, however. He was one of the few who could heal like Talaitha could, by giving strength through raw energy. It was because of Elrond's healing gift that Talaitha journeyed to Middle-earth, for she had questions only he could answer.

After soaking in the bath water, which was now lukewarm, for nearly an hour, Talaitha dressed in a simple cream-colored gown with a green overlay and headed to the library. More often than not, that was where Elrond spent his time, poring over books on all subjects. Today was no exception.

"You are predictable," Talaitha said, smirking. She glanced at the page Elrond was reading, but it was in a language she didn't know. It looked to be a form of elvish-Quenya, perhaps.

Elrond raised an eyebrow, as he was apt to do when interacting with Talaitha. "After thousands of years, would I be anything else?"

Talaitha circled the library, thinking. "Wise, perhaps a bit weary of Middle-earth, and...as kind as summer," she replied. "Though I suspect that last part was always true."

Elrond smiled at her candor. For better or worse, Talaitha rarely kept her thoughts secret. Some, like Thranduil of the Greenwood, believed a woman should not state her opinions so bluntly. But others, like Elrond and Gandalf, valued her honesty, even if occasionally it resulted in wounded pride.

"Your silver tongue is ever present," Elrond remarked. Talaitha merely smirked in reply and took a book off the shelf. "You came from the Shire?"

Talaitha nodded. "Originally, yes," she replied. "But I stopped in Archet along the way to treat two snakebite victims."

"Do the healers not have an antidote for the venom?" Elrond asked, sitting on the bench across from Talaitha's.

The book in her lap snapped shut. "That's the strange part. Archet's antivenom is very effective, and anyone who ventures into the Midgewater Marshes takes along a phial of it." Talaitha's eyebrows furrowed, and a frown tugged at her lips. She looked and sounded troubled. "But the men I treated didn't take any. They were dying."

Elrond understood her unease. As a healer, Talaitha had, of course, witnessed death and dying countless times. But when they were caused by sheer carelessness...that was a healer's bane. "It is natural to feel as you do," he said. "You fulfilled your obligation to them, but now they are no longer your responsibility."

Talaitha smiled. This was why she thought he was as kind as summer; instead of mocking her for becoming distraught over her patients' folly, as some would have done, he reassured her without coddling her. It was a mark of his respect for her.

Elrond resumed reading his book, while Talaitha reopened hers. It told the story of Manwë, the benevolent Valar who commanded the air itself. She settled herself into the cushions and let herself journey to Mount Taniquetil, if only in her imagination.

They hadn't been reading for long when the library doors opened and a group of elf children scrambled in. "We saw Szélvész in the stables, so we knew you'd be in here," said an elf girl.

"Tell us a story!" said a boy, who was joined by the others in a chorus of _pleases_ and _yeses_.

Talaitha shared an amused glance with Elrond, then nodded. "Gather 'round, and I'll tell you one of my favorites." The children grinned and sat down on the benches. Five elflings even managed to fit themselves onto Talaitha's bench, causing her to smile fondly and pull the youngest child into her lap.

_A long, long time ago, the fourteen Valar created Arda, our world. But that Middle-earth was quite different from the one we know today, for it was full of light, goodness, and love. It looked different, too; Mount Taniquetil stretched toward the heavens and was home to the king of the Valar, Manwë. _

The older children who were familiar with the tale nodded. The younger elflings listened raptly, for they were still awed by the ethereal Valar.

_Despite commanding the air and all its creatures, Manwë was a just and kind king who wasn't very concerned with how much power he wielded. It was more important that those who needed his help received it, which was why he was so beloved. _

_But his brother, Melkor, was quite the opposite. He was the first and most powerful Vala, and he used his wisdom and influence for evil. You see, unlike the other Valar, Melkor had visited the Void, the great Nothing, the uninhabited places outside Arda. Melkor was envious of Ilúvatar's ability to create life, so he vowed to steal the Flame Imperishable-the raw energy that Ilúvatar used to create life-and fashion his own world with his own creatures in the Void. _

Talaitha paused to assess her audience. The elf girl in her lap squirmed and looked at her, her eyes questioning why the story had stopped. Some of the older children, though, were concentrating; she suspected they were trying to remember what they'd learned about the Void. With a tickle to the elfling's ribs that earned her a giggle, Talaitha continued.

_Luckily, Melkor could not find the Flame Imperishable, for it remained always with Ilúvatar. So he tried a different tactic. Three times he disrupted the songs the Valar sang, songs that were created by Ilúvatar and thus could only be altered by Him. Eru rebuked Melkor, who was furious but pretended to have reformed so that he could be trusted enough to interact with and eventually dominate the elves and men. _

A few startled gasps slipped past the younger children's lips. "But Eru will stop him!" cried an elf boy. "_No_, Manwë will stop him," said another.

"Hush," Talaitha chided with a smile. "You shall give away the story."

_It was indeed Manwë who thwarted his brother, for a while, at least. Though he did not understand Melkor's evil ways, he knew his brother was up to no good. So he called the other Valar to help protect the elves and men, and it seemed that Melkor had yielded. The eldest Vala traveled far away and was unheard of for many, many years. _

_But Melkor was not sitting quietly during his absence. No, he grew stronger and had acquired spies among the Maiar; thus, he knew the Valar's every step. He finally attacked but was driven away by Tulkas, the Vala of war. For now, it seemed that Arda was at peace._

"Melkor wouldn't give up so easily," said a boy.

"You're quite right," Talaitha said, nodding. "But Melkor wanted his kin to believe he had, so that they would ignore him long enough for him to become even stronger."

"I don't like Melkor," a girl remarked with a pout.

Elrond chuckled. "That is wise."

The children giggled, then refocused their attention on Talaitha.

_After gathering more allies, Melkor struck again but this time when everyone was asleep. He burrowed into the earth, building a terrible fortress that turned the surrounding lands into evil, dying places. The Valar knew then that Melkor was responsible. Yet before they could stop him, Melkor destroyed the two lamps that kept Arda balanced, and the resulting fire and water that surged uncontrollably nearly destroyed the world. The Valar could do little to punish Melkor, for all their power went into keeping the world whole. _

"How can the Valar keep Arda together?" asked the little girl in Talaitha's lap.

"Well, each Vala has his or her own special ability," Talaitha replied. "For example, Manwë controls the air, so he made sure it remained clean of the smoke and toxic fumes. Tulkas probably kept the animals and people from killing each other in wars, and Ulmo may have prevented the waters from drowning the earth." She paused and glanced at Elrond for confirmation.

Elrond nodded. "It is true," he said. "With their individual powers combined, the Valar could have created Arda if they'd had the Flame Imperishable. Therefore, they were able to save their domains, which in turn saved Arda."

"So the world was saved?" the little girl asked again.

"Yes, it was," Talaitha said with a smile. "And Melkor would be punished."

_The Valar managed to destroy Melkor's evil fortress and banished him to the halls of Mandos, where he remained for three ages, until he was presented to his brother. Because Manwë was good and pure, he took pity on Melkor and released him, though he was constantly under watch. Yet even then, Melkor waged war on the Valar and the elves, particularly Eärendil, who killed Melkor's most powerful dragon. _

Elrond's lips tugged upward in a small smile at the mention of his father. Talaitha met his gaze for a moment, smiled, then finished her story.

_In the end, it was Manwë who put a stop to his brother's terror upon Middle-earth. He cast Melkor into the Void, where he still resides and will remain as long as the Valar protect the world. _

"So if the Valar leave, will Melkor come back?" asked an elf boy.

Talaitha nodded grimly. "A prophecy states that one day, he will return to seek vengeance on the Valar and their allies." Troubled expressions settled on the children's faces, causing Talaitha to smile gently. "Yet even then there is hope, for the prophecy also says that a human man will defeat him for good."

The elf girl sitting beside Elrond looked up at him and asked, "Were you there when Melkor was sent to the Void?"

Talaitha swallowed her laugh as Elrond's eyebrow quirked in amusement. "I am not _that_ old," he replied with the barest of smiles. "Now I think it's time you returned to your parents."

When it was just her and Elrond in the library, Talaitha allowed herself to giggle. Children asked the most candid questions yet in such an innocent manner. Perhaps that was why she enjoyed their company so much-they feigned no pretenses, and in a world in which deception was rampant, that was comforting.

"What's that you're reading?" she asked finally.

"It is a book of Quenya poetry," Elrond replied. "It was Celebrían's favorite." Sadness filled his gray eyes for a few seconds.

Talaitha's heart warmed. He rarely spoke of his wife, who had sailed to Valinor after being tortured by orcs. She knew elves loved but once in their long lives, so for him to be separated from her must be painful indeed.

"Would you read them aloud?" she asked softly, almost nervously.

Elrond raised his eyebrows. "I did not think you understood Quenya."

"I don't, but I nevertheless appreciate its beauty in poetry," she replied. She fiddled with the laces of her dress. "Unless you wish to read them privately."

Elrond smiled. "If I wished that, I would have chosen another book," he said. Talaitha grinned as he began reading and allowed herself to fully engage in the poems. Though she did not understand the words, she grasped the basic theme of each poem from Elrond's tone and inflection.

They spent hours with the book, discussing the poems after Elrond briefly translated them, stopping only for dinner. During the meal, Talaitha's thoughts returned to the dwarves. They should have arrived in Rivendell by now. Nibbling absently on an apple, she wracked her memory for any potential threat that could have waylaid them. There were bears and wolves in the wild, but she was certain they posed little danger to the battle-ready dwarves. The trolls resided north in the Ettenmoors, and orcs did not venture into that part of Middle-earth. Besides, she had traversed nearby terrain and had encountered nothing sinister. It was more likely that the storm had delayed them. With that reassuring explanation, she ate her meal with more enthusiasm and even joined the elves' conversations in Sindarin.

Elrond, however, knew there was something Talaitha was not telling him. And he suspected it involved Gandalf.


	7. Chapter 7: Reunion

Look, I'm early! I've had a bit more spare time so was able to finish chapter 8 tonight. :)

A shout out to WolfBites91 for the very sweet PM. Thank you!

LianaDare8: Don't worry, Thorin returns in this chapter. He's tough to write (for me, at least), so to be honest, I relished the break last chapter. :)

Guest: I don't know who you are, anon, but thank you! :D

Theta-McBride: *blushes* You're too kind.

To everyone else who follows this story, I am beyond flattered. My fellow anthropology grad students think I'm nuts because periodically throughout the day, I grin and get excited while checking my phone. So thank you. :D

This chapter gave me _such_ grief, more than any previous chapter thus far. Though chapter 8 runs a close second, and it's still unedited. *shudders* Anyway, I hope Talaitha's reunion with Thorin makes up for his absence last chapter!

Pictures of Talaitha's "warrior" outfit can be found on my profile, along with pronunciations. Just scroll down to the "_Soul Healing_" sections.

And finally, I only own Talaitha and Szélvész-fictionally, of course. But I'd dearly love such a horse in real life.

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**Chapter 7: Reunion**

The following morning, there was still no sign of the Company, and Talaitha was concerned now. Had Thorin learned of Gandalf's plans and refused to come to Rivendell? Or had some ill fate actually befallen them?

The sound of hooves on stone and an urgent voice wrenched Talaitha from her anxious thoughts. She moved to her balcony and listened as a scout elf informed Elrond that a band of orcs astride wargs had been spotted on the plains heading towards Rivendell. When Elrond ordered a group of mounted warriors to assemble in the main courtyard, Talaitha hurried into her room and swapped her green gown for black leather breeches, a white blouse, and a brown leather corset that doubled as light armor. Jogging down to the stables, while strapping on the leather harness that held her bow, quiver of arrows, and two daggers, she led Szélvész into the courtyard.

A few elves had gathered, but many were still in the process of donning armor and saddling their horses. Talaitha couldn't imagine being weighed down by all that leather and metal. If she wore that much armor, it would hinder her movements and reduce her speed, and she relied heavily on the latter during fights. Though she possessed less strength than most of her opponents, she was smaller and quicker, so she evaded until she spotted an opening or until her adversaries grew careless from frustration. Not the most courageous tactic perhaps, but it had served her well in the few skirmishes she couldn't avoid.

Elrond entered the courtyard, clad in glittering brown armor and a simple silver circlet, looking possibly even more regal than in his flowing robes. His eyebrow quirked when he saw her, but he didn't question her presence; he knew her well enough by now that he probably couldn't dissuade her from joining anyway. Talaitha was grateful he didn't try, for she wouldn't have been able to lie to Elrond. Truthfully, she was accompanying the warriors in the hopes of discovering if the orcs were responsible for hampering the Company. Chances were slim she'd learn anything, but her concern for her friends, especially Bilbo, prevented her from sitting idly.

She pulled herself onto Szélvész's back and spurred her forward with the rest of the warriors, who seemed only slightly surprised to be riding into battle alongside a woman. After all, many knew and respected her as the wandering healer.

As they galloped out of the valley and onto the plains, they heard the guttural shouts of the orcs and the eerie howls of the wargs. Talaitha tensed, her grip tightening on Szélvész's mane until her knuckles were white. Now that she glimpsed the horrible creatures, she wondered just how wise her decision had been. Szélvész thrashed her head and whinnied, no doubt sensing her rider's misgivings, but the mare galloped fearlessly forward.

Elrond glanced back at Talaitha, and she tried to plaster a reassuring smile on her face. She failed. The half-elf flashed her a look that seemed to say _it's too late now,_ but then his expression softened, and he nodded at her encouragingly. That was all she needed to buck up her courage, and when Elrond unsheathed his curved blade, she drew her bow and fired at the nearest warg. It went down, crushing its rider in the process, with two arrows in its neck. Szélvész trampled on the warg's head for good measure, and Talaitha had the sneaking suspicion that the mare was enjoying herself. Elrond spared her a grim smile before slicing the head off an orc and bringing his sword down on the warg's skull.

#

Meanwhile, hidden in a large hole behind boulders, the Company listened to the fight above, unsure of what was happening until a dead orc slid into the subterranean opening. Thorin yanked the arrow from its chest and examined the tip. "Elves," he spat, glaring up at Gandalf. The wizard met the dwarf's gaze but offered no reply.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads," said Dwalin, who had scouted ahead. "Do we follow it or no?"

Bofur shouted back. "Follow it, of course!"

"I think that would be wise," Gandalf murmured, falling in line behind the dwarves.

They traversed the narrow path, which was actually revealed to be a shallow ravine, until it widened onto a rocky outcropping. The dwarves were stunned by what they saw, and Bilbo was awestruck, for he knew what he gazed upon.

Gandalf came forward. "The valley of Imladris," he said with a small smile. "In the Common Tongue, it's known by another name."

"Rivendell," breathed Bilbo.

"Here lies the last Homely House east of the sea," Gandalf finished.

Thorin turned on the wizard. "This was your plan all along," he accused, his tone quietly livid. "To seek refuge with our enemy."

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself," Gandalf admonished sharply.

But Thorin would not be deterred. "Do you think the elves will give our quest their blessing?" he asked bitterly. "They will try to stop us."

"Of course they will," Gandalf replied. "But we have questions that need to be answered."

Thorin appeared pained as he looked down, but he argued no further. It seemed he would once again, however reluctantly, do as the wizard bade.

Gandalf saw Thorin's acquiescence and continued. "If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact. And respect. And no small degree of charm. Which is why you will leave the talking to me."

That Thorin didn't react negatively to Gandalf's orders and less-than-positive insinuations was a miracle. However, he did descend into the valley with a fierce glower, and when Kili asked him why no elves had confronted them yet, he snapped a curse in reply. After that only Balin and Dwalin dared to speak to him.

When they reached a circular courtyard, an elf in a wine-colored tunic descended the steps. "Mithrandir." He extended his arm in a traditional elvish greeting.

Gandalf turned and smiled. "Lindir."

Lindir spoke something in Elvish, to which Gandalf replied, his expression grave, "I must speak with Lord Elrond."

"My Lord Elrond is not here."

"Not here? Where is he?" Gandalf asked, as if he doubted the elf's words.

Suddenly, a horn sounded in the distance, and Gandalf raised his eyebrows in amusement. When he saw Elrond leading a small group of warriors across the bridge, he grew alarmed. Thorin ordered the dwarves to close ranks, and they formed a circle with Bilbo in the center. Gandalf's frown morphed into a smirk when he spotted Talaitha's copper head among the elves; of course she would ride out with the elves.

Talaitha flashed the wizard a grin, but it quickly faded when she saw what the elves were surrounding. She guided Szélvész to stand beside Lindir. She wanted no part in intimidating the dwarves, who she knew were distrustful enough of elves. Her gaze met Thorin's. Surprise was evident on his face but also suspicion, and she supposed she couldn't blame him; she _did_ ride in with the elves, after all. Bilbo, however, sighed with relief when he saw her.

"Gandalf!" Elrond exclaimed with a smile.

"Lord Elrond," the wizard replied respectfully. The conversation continued in Elvish, but Talaitha understood; Elrond explained that they'd been hunting a pack of orcs that had wandered near the Hidden Pass.

"Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders," Elrond said, dismounting and greeting Gandalf with a brief embrace. He handed an orc blade to Lindir. "Something or some_one_ has drawn them near."

Gandalf turned toward the Company. "Ah, that may have been us."

Elrond glanced at Talaitha knowingly before meeting the approaching dwarf. "Welcome, Thorin, son of Thráin."

"I do not believe we have met," Thorin replied dryly.

"You have your grandfather's bearing," Elrond said. "I knew Thrór when he ruled under the mountain."

"Indeed? He made no mention of you."

Talaitha rolled her eyes. Thorin was intent on being as stubborn and uncivil as possible without actually provoking the elves. _Foolish dwarf_, she thought and bit back an exasperated sigh.

Elrond's gray eyes glinted playfully as he spoke to the dwarves in Elvish, which prompted them to erupt into an angry chorus with Glóin asking whether they'd been insulted. Talaitha chuckled, for she'd understood Elrond's words, but she sobered and cleared her throat when she saw Thorin glare at her.

Gandalf intervened. "No, Master Glóin, he is offering you food."

After a brief conference, Glóin replied, much subdued, "Ah. Well in that case, lead on."

Talaitha smirked and, after a quick reunion with Bilbo, led Szélvész to the stables. She didn't notice Thorin break off from the dwarves to follow her.

"You ride with neither reins nor a saddle," said Thorin, startling Talaitha.

She glanced at him briefly before feeding Szélvész a handful of oats. The mare snorted in greeting to Thorin and nuzzled Talaitha's cheek, smearing it slightly with wet oats. Talaitha didn't appear to mind, and she even giggled as she wiped her cheek.

"They are a cumbersome burden," she replied. "And I doubt Szélvész would consent to them." Talaitha smirked as she brushed down the mare. "She may not be as wild as when I found her, but she is by no means a tame horse."

Thorin picked up a brush and moved it in circles across Szélvész's flank. She swatted his hand with her tail, but her nicker softened the sting. He never thought he'd be teased by a horse, and despite wanting to be irritated, he couldn't help the small smile that formed on his lips. Talaitha grinned and fed Szélvész a second handful of oats as thanks for drawing the dwarf out of his brooding. Unfortunately, his pleasant mood didn't last long.

"I am surprised to see you here," said Thorin. His tone was guarded, almost suspicious.

"I am well-acquainted with Lord Elrond and have spent much time in Rivendell," she replied simply. It was the truth, after all, even if not the whole-truth.

Thorin's features darkened. "So much time apparently that you speak Elvish."

"Indeed. I thought it prudent to learn, since many books and texts are found only in Elvish," she said, her tone light in contrast to Thorin's. "I learned a bit of Khuzdul as well."

This surprised Thorin, but his expression remained stoic. "You slew those orcs?"

Szélvész nudged Talaitha, who instinctively raised a hand to stroke her neck and withers. "Some of them, yes," she replied, watching the elves leave the stables. Now it was just her, Thorin, and Szélvész, who was more concerned with chomping on hay while Talaitha groomed her than with the dwarf.

Thorin walked around Szélvész to Talaitha, his gaze roving over her clothing, which was once again strange. Breeches were one thing, but he was sure the brown leather garment over her blouse was too form-fitting to be armor, at least not any armor he'd seen. However, though he was loathe to admit, the way it accentuated her figure was rather alluring, and his eyes lingered longer than necessary on her hips and waist. If Talaitha noticed his scrutiny, she showed no sign of it and opted to keep her attention on her horse.

His glance swept to her face, and he almost smiled when he saw her copper hair was pulled into a double braid. Although the hairstyle was too simple by dwarf standards, it nevertheless reminded him of home, and he wondered if braids were symbolic in whatever culture she belonged to.

Finally, Talaitha looked at him, offering him a small smile. "I am glad to see you are all unharmed," she remarked softly. "I was worried when you didn't arrive this morning."

Thorin's eyes hardened. "You were expecting us. You, the hobbit, and the wizard planned this," he said angrily. "Why? What purpose do you have in this quest?"

Szélvész's ears flattened in response to Thorin's tone, but Talaitha shook her head. The mare eyed Thorin warily before dipping her head to the hay once more.

"Bilbo is innocent in this, but now is not the time to explain," Talaitha replied calmly. "Come, I will take you to your room."

She walked out of the stables and up the stairs. After a moment's hesitation, Thorin followed, but he was scowling once more. His control of his own quest was slipping. First Gandalf had forced him to accept the hobbit, who had yet to live up to his status as burglar. Then the wizard had tricked them into coming to Rivendell. And now Talaitha-a _woman_-was dictating when he'd learn of her involvement in _his_ quest. He was sure his father and grandfather would be ashamed of him. Yet there was little he could do; he needed Gandalf's aid and, though he would never admit it aloud, Elrond's, too. And Talaitha...well, she continued to intrigue him, despite, or perhaps because of, her mysteries.

Talaitha opened the door to his room and entered. "Each dwarf has his own chambers," she explained. She glanced at him, at the dirt on his face and hands, and tried to hide a smirk with limited success. "There's a bath and wash basin through there," she said, pointing to an adjoining room. "If you want to clean up."

Thorin was sure he also smelled terrible, probably of troll, but she tactfully said nothing more on the matter. "A meal will be served shortly. The elves can point you in the right direction."

He wanted to ask her if she would be at the meal, too, but before he could chide himself for such foolishness, she was out the door and closing it without a sound. He forced his pride aside and strode into the bathing room; he couldn't stand the stench of troll any longer.


	8. Chapter 8: A Fine Day for a Fight

Hello friends!

Don't mind me; it's 3:20 AM, and I'm in a strange mood, as usual for this time of night. Or morning. Anyway, I come bearing a new chapter!

I'm sure by now you're all getting tired of hearing this, but thank you for the favorites, follows, and reviews. I just splurged on some Easter chocolate, so you all get some as thanks. :) And a hug for good measure.

Marana: I struggle with descriptions, so I'm glad the final result is better than the initial draft. :) And if the anon was you, I'm glad you signed in this time!

StarlightWolf15 and Mercede216: Thank you!

LianaDare8: Not weird at all, but I fear there's no kiss in this chapter. :/ It's a slow burn romance, if ever there was one, though this chapter is a bit of a turning point for T&T.

3insteinComplex: Oh Talaitha definitely butts heads (and other things) with Thorin in this chappie... He's starting to warm up to her, though. Slowly. At like glacial speed.

ChippyofBlackSky: Thanks!

1. There are a few new Hungarian words in this chapter, so check my profile for pronunciations and the accompanying audio, if you wish. Pictures of the dress and sword are there, too.

2. I also mention a type of fighting style, called "baranta." It actually exists-it's Hungarian martial arts, and the description Talaitha gives of its history is actually true. Not sure about the moves, though.

3. The sword Talaitha uses is based off an actual 19th century Hungarian sabre. The design is believed to be similar to the blades used by the ancient Hungarians, since it's like the Turkish swords. But I've made it into a fairy sword. XD

4. This chapter was a bitch to write. Oh my _God,_ the rewrites! It started out completely differently, then I realized it wouldn't fit with the film, so I changed it. Then I changed it _again_ because Talaitha and Thorin kept flailing, much as I was. But I'm mostly satisfied with it now. And it's bloody _long_!

Disclaimer: I only own Talaitha. Poor her.

Enjoy!

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**Chapter 8: A Fine Day for a Fight**

Talaitha tugged at the silver circlet around her head as she walked up the steps to the balcony. Bilbo and the dwarves, except Thorin, were already seated at a table, and she smirked when she heard Dwalin grumble about the lack of meat.

Kili was the first to notice her and promptly waved her over. "Fancy seeing you here," he said with a cheeky grin.

"It is dinner time, is it not?" she replied innocently.

"I mean here in Rivendell." He touched the flowing sleeve of her midnight blue, velvet gown. "And not wearing that fetching dress from Bag End."

Talaitha smirked and pulled her arm out of his reach. "One must blend in."

As she searched for a place to sit, Elrond nodded toward the fourth chair at the table where he, Gandalf, and Thorin had just sat down. She felt Thorin's gaze on her as she joined them, and she cursed the light blush that crept into her cheeks. Ducking her head, she pretended to adjust the napkin in her lap, though both Elrond and Gandalf knew her mannerisms well enough to see through the ruse. The wizard's eyes twinkled in amusement, but Elrond's expression turned stoic.

"You are a sight for sore eyes, my dear," said Gandalf, once Talaitha had regained her composure.

"You would not say so had you seen me when I arrived." She gave a wry smile. "The rain, I fear, had wreaked a bit of havoc."

Gandalf chuckled. "Yes, we ran afoul of it, too."

From her seat beside Thorin, Talaitha saw something silver glint in the sunlight. It was a curved sword. "That is a beautiful blade," she said, drawing Elrond's attention to the dwarf.

Thorin glanced at her sharply, but then his expression softened. She had no way of knowing where he'd found the sword or why he didn't want to divulge that information to the elves. So with a grit of his teeth, he handed his new blade to Elrond.

"This is Orcrist, the Goblin-Cleaver," said Elrond. "A famous blade forged by the high elves of the West, my kin. May it serve you well." He passed the sword back to Thorin, who accepted it with a nod of thanks.

Elrond unsheathed the blade Gandalf had taken from the troll cave. "And this is Glamdring, the Foe-Hammer, sword of the king of Gondolin." There was a hint of reverence in his voice. "These swords were made for the goblin wars of the First Age."

Talaitha grinned, probably like a fool, so she relaxed her face into a more neutral expression. Her eyes, however, remained bright, for she had read about Orcrist and Glamdring and had lamented their loss after the goblin wars. To actually see them, gleaming as though they were newly forged, sent a thrill of excitement through her.

Thorin watched Talaitha out of the corner of his eye, saw her enthusiasm when the elf identified the blades, and he nearly smiled. She wore her emotions on her sleeve-he'd noticed as much in Bag End-, and it made his heart just a tiny bit lighter. Although he'd never been a particularly cheerful dwarf, even before Smaug had taken Erebor, he did find some comfort in those who were, like his nephews and now Talaitha.

"How did you come by these?" asked Elrond, forcing Thorin's attention back to the conversation.

"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road shortly before we were ambushed by orcs," Gandalf replied, oblivious to, or perhaps ignoring, Thorin's glare.

Talaitha's head snapped up, a forkful of lettuce hovering just shy of her mouth. "A troll hoard?"

Gandalf glanced at her for a second, but Elrond's question was more pressing. "And what were you doing on the Great East Road?"

Talaitha thought he sounded amused; he surely knew Gandalf was up to something, for it was not every day that a small contingent of dwarves trudged into Rivendell.

"Perhaps that's best explained tonight," replied Gandalf. He'd finally acknowledged Thorin's glower.

Elrond's eyebrow quirked, and he looked at Talaitha pointedly. Smiling sheepishly, she ate a large forkful of salad to keep her mouth occupied, so she wouldn't be tempted to divulge information.

#

"So tell me about your run-in with trolls," Talaitha said, as she and Bilbo sat on a bench beneath an ash tree. Orange leaves, dislodged by the breeze, fell idly by their feet. A little ways off, the dwarves were sprawled out in a garden, and Gandalf and Thorin stood beside a column, having what appeared to be a serious conversation.

Bilbo looked surprised. "How did you know we'd encountered trolls?"

Talaitha shrugged. "It took you an extra day to arrive in Rivendell, and Gandalf mentioned a troll hoard. I just put two and two together."

"Well, Fili and Kili were supposed to be watching the ponies, but the trolls stole four of them. They made me sneak in to steal them back, but I got caught." Bilbo still sounded put-out that the brothers had sent him in alone.

Talaitha glanced at the Durin brothers; Kili was laughing with Bofur, while Fili indulged them with a small smile. In moments like this, it was apparent that Fili was Thorin's heir. He seemed to carry himself with a more regal air than Kili, who was rarely serious.

"Are you even listening?" Bilbo asked.

Talaitha turned back to the hobbit, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. Go on."

"As I was saying, I got caught while trying to free the ponies, but the dwarves charged the trolls and put up a good fight. In the end, though, they were captured and stuffed into burlap sacks. They would've been eaten had Gandalf not shown up."

Talaitha giggled at the mental image of Thorin tied in a sack; she could only imagine the thunderous expression on his face. "I'll bet that's an experience our surly dwarf king wishes to forget."

"Actually, Thorin wasn't the worst," Bilbo said. "When I suggested to the trolls that the dwarves had parasites, Kili was the most emphatic in his protests."

Talaitha resisted the sudden urge to hug the hobbit. He'd demonstrated his mettle and quick wit by playing for time, just like she knew he would. Bilbo might not realize his full potential, but she did.

"Where was Gandalf during all of this?"

"He'd gone off somewhere after complaining about the stubbornness of dwarves," Bilbo replied. "But he came back close to dawn and split a boulder so the rising sun could shine through and turn the trolls to stone."

Talaitha decided that after the quest was complete, she would visit the Stone Trolls, for she'd never seen a troll in person before. But as that thought crossed her mind, all traces of humor left her features. Something troubled Talaitha about Bilbo's story, and it wasn't that the Company had nearly been troll breakfast. "And you were nowhere near the Ettenmoors?"

Bilbo shook his head. "We stayed on the road and had just crossed the bridge over the Hoarwell River."

Talaitha tried to hide her worry. She didn't want to alarm Bilbo, who looked uncomfortable enough as it was.

"I don't know why I let you talk me into this quest." The hobbit scowled. "Do you know what it's like to be used as a troll's handkerchief?"

Talaitha snorted with laughter, but she quickly sobered when she glimpsed Bilbo's withering stare. "Thankfully, I do not," she replied. "And as for the adventure, you were going to agree anyway. I just...hastened the decision a bit."

"Perhaps," Bilbo conceded. "But I'd be happier if you came along. At least then there'd be someone to talk to."

"I _am_ coming along." She smiled. "Well, if Thorin lets me."

"If I let you what?" asked the dwarf king. He and Gandalf walked around the bench, apparently finished with their secret meeting.

Talaitha glanced up warily at Gandalf, who looked amused. For a centuries-old wizard, he sometimes behaved like a child.

She took a deep breath and turned to Thorin. "If you let me join your Company."

"No," he said without hesitation.

"Why not?" She tried to keep her voice light, but his immediate refusal irked her.

"The quest is perilous."

"No, what you mean is that I'm a woman and therefore cannot be of any use to you," she countered.

By now, the rest of the dwarves had noticed the argument and gathered closer to watch. They were curious how their leader would react to Talaitha, a woman who he'd seemed to like back in Hobbiton.

Thorin considered her words, then said, "In the present circumstances? No."

Talaitha took a step towards him and looked up at him defiantly. "How can you possibly know a person's merits if you don't give them a chance?"

Thorin closed the distance between them, towering over her. If he expected her to shrink away, he was sorely disappointed, for she met his glare with one of her own.

"I don't even know _who_ you are," he growled.

This time she did step back, but not because he'd frightened her. She glanced at Gandalf, wide eyes reflecting an unspoken question. He nodded, and she turned back to Thorin.

"I am Talaitha Borvirág, daughter of Emese Selyem and Tardos Acél," she said flatly, as though she were reciting a well-practiced line. "I come from Nemere, though you may know it as the Evergreen Plain."

"Well bless me, she's a fairy," Bofur murmured.

Talaitha nodded. "We call ourselves the szelemér."

She tried to ignore the dwarves' shocked faces. She knew few of her kind roamed Middle-earth, but was the gawking really necessary? This was precisely why she hesitated to divulge her race; when she did, people often viewed her differently, like the exaggeratedly small and magical fairies of stories. Thankfully, however, Fili and Kili seemed to have taken her admission in stride, and Kili even threw her a cheeky grin.

"And what is a fairy doing so far from home?" Thorin asked brusquely.

"I'm a traveling healer." Her tone was sharp, daring him to find fault with that.

"And a very skilled one, too," Gandalf supplied cheerfully.

His comment had the desired effect, for the tension that had been steadily building throughout Talaitha and Thorin's conversation was diffused. Both parties glanced at him, as though they'd forgotten he or anyone else was present.

Thorin was the first to regain his composure. "Óin is our healer."

"Yes, I know," Talaitha said with a sigh. "But you have an army of orcs behind you and a dragon ahead. Surely two healers are better than one."

"That may be true," he conceded, to Talaitha's surprise. "But we already have one defenseless member. I will not permit another."

Bilbo harrumphed softly beside Gandalf, who patted his shoulder in a conciliatory manner. Talaitha grinned. "I am _hardly_ defenseless, Thorin Oakenshield. Allow me to demonstrate."

Thorin's eyebrow quirked in amusement. "Very well."

Without a parting glance, Talaitha swept up the hem of her dress and jogged up the stairs to her room. She quickly changed into her blouse and breeches, grabbed her sword, and rejoined the dwarves in the pavilion.

Thorin's gaze was drawn to her blade, which was curved like his own. He suspected it, too, was of elvish make, though it was smaller and thinner than his. Perhaps a szelemér design, then.

"Owning a pretty blade is one thing, but can you use it?"

Talaitha smirked. "Discover for yourself."

Thorin's pale blue eyes were cold. "I will not fight a woman."

"Then how will you assess my training?" She twirled the blade gracefully, as if to beckon him.

In reply, Thorin nodded to Dwalin, who hesitated for a moment before stepping forward to the center of the pavilion. The dwarves moved to the edge, while Bilbo looked up at Gandalf in concern.

"Dwalin's much bigger than she is," said the hobbit. He wrung his hands and glanced back at Talaitha.

Gandalf smiled. "And perhaps that will be to her advantage."

Talaitha saw Dwalin's reluctance to fight her, so she attacked first, forcing him to bring up his battle axe to protect himself. Their weapons met in a _clang_ that echoed through the valley, and Talaitha's hands tingled from the vibrations of the contact.

Dwalin used the axe's long handle as a makeshift staff to swipe at Talaitha, but she deftly evaded him. Twirling, she brought her leg up to kick the axe out of Dwalin's hands, though she knew it wouldn't work. Nevertheless, it didn't hurt to show Thorin she could hold her own without weapons, if the need arose.

The sparring match continued for a few more minutes, with Talaitha allowing Dwalin to nearly touch her with the axe handle before dancing out of the way. She knew it was only a matter of time before the dwarf's greater size and weight unbalanced him just enough for her to seize her chance. Finally, when Dwalin leaned forward slightly to strike, Talaitha ducked beneath his arms and touched the flat of her blade to his neck. She had won, not through swordsmanship but through evasion and quicker footwork.

"Not bad, lass," Dwalin said gruffly, as he dropped his arms so she could move away.

Talaitha grinned triumphantly at Thorin, but he didn't appear to be impressed. He nodded at Kili, who drew his sword with a confident smirk. "You ready, fairy?"

She wasn't, but she raised her blade anyway; Kili had the advantage of having watched her spar with Dwalin, so he knew her fighting style. Talaitha, on the other hand, had to learn his quickly if she was to stand a chance.

Their swords touched in a clash of metal, jarring her slightly, though she saw he was holding back, just as Dwalin had. Otherwise, she'd be sprawled on the ground by now. She jumped to the left to slap his side, but he parried her strike and followed with one of his own, not missing a beat. She barely avoided the flat of his blade.

"You're fast," she panted.

A shadow of a smirk tugged at his lips for a few seconds, then a look of concentration reappeared on his face. They sparred even longer than she and Dwalin had, dancing out of the way of each other's blades. Talaitha's tried-and-true tactic of evasion wasn't much defense against Kili, for he was upon her almost immediately after each of her feints, until finally, she reacted a second too slowly. Talaitha felt the light slap of steel against her arm, but the match wasn't over yet.

She changed her tactic, going on the offensive instead. Blow after blow fell upon Kili's blade, then suddenly, Talaitha dropped into a crouch, braced her free hand on the ground, and kicked out a leg in a sweeping arc that tripped the young dwarf. Before he could regain his footing, she stood and touched the tip of her sword to his neck.

Now it was Talaitha's turn to smirk. "You fought well, dwarf." Fili snickered as his brother, scowling, rejoined the group.

"I won't fall for that again," he grumbled.

Heavy footsteps behind her interrupted her response, and when she turned, she came face-to-face with Thorin, her green eyes wide with surprise. She glanced at his blade, which was held out toward her, and winced. Although she'd challenged him earlier, now that the moment had arrived, she was nervous. After all, if the stories were true, he'd faced down the giant orc, Azog, with only an oak branch as a shield.

Thorin must have noticed her apprehension, for his expression softened, and he lowered his sword. She smiled, feeling a hint of affection towards him for his concern, and raised her blade. His brow quirked in amusement, and he wasted no time in attacking her. She blocked his thrust and pushed back with all her strength, but he stood firm, as she knew he would. Nevertheless, she felt a surge of pride when his eyes widened at her uncharacteristically aggressive move.

They broke apart and circled each other, ice-blue gaze meeting peridot-green. A tension slowly built in the pavilion, and some of the dwarves-Ori, Dori, and Balin-shifted uncomfortably. Gandalf hid a smile behind his staff, while Bilbo watched, slightly agape. He had seen Talaitha teach some of the more intrepid hobbits, mostly Tooks and Brandybucks, how to fight, but she looked completely different now. Gone was the light-hearted woman; in her place, stood someone who resembled a warrior.

Finally, Thorin strode forward and, in mid-swing, changed the direction of his strike. Talaitha barely managed to jump out of the way. He was on her nearly as quickly as Kili had been, but he was also holding back less, giving her no time to counter his thrusts. She had no choice but to duck and evade, which ordinarily would have been effective, except his time, Thorin was learning her feints and had begun to anticipate them. Only her smaller form had saved her from the flat of his blade.

When he smirked at her after he'd anticipated one of her dodges, she'd had enough and parried his next thrust. Talaitha stopped thinking and allowed her training to take over, surprising herself and Thorin as she blocked and reciprocated his strikes with relative fluidity. But even so, Thorin was by far the superior swordsman, and it was only a matter of time before Talaitha's defenses slipped. Her stomach clenched as she felt Orcrist's sharp point against her neck.

Thorin regarded her with an unreadable expression, then lowered his blade. "Balin, write up a contract for Talaitha."

The fairy grinned triumphantly as she caught her breath. The dwarves surrounded her, wanting to know where she had learned to fight, for even amongst their kind, whose females were much like the males, women warriors were rare.

"It is not uncommon for szelemér women to be trained in combat, because our society views males and females as equals," Talaitha said. "So I learned archery and basic swordsmanship, among other things."

"What about those kicks and spins?" asked Ori.

Talaitha smiled. "Those are part of baranta, the traditional fighting style of the szelemér. It evolved during surprise raids, so that even if you were weaponless, you could still defend yourself."

"Your skills are many for one so young," Thorin remarked. Though his tone was light, he watched her intently.

"I fear your compliment is unwarranted, for my appearance is deceiving," she said. "I am 177-years-old."

Thorin hid his surprise well, unlike his nephews, who gaped at Talaitha. "You are only 24 years Uncle's junior, yet you look closer to our age," said Kili.

Talaitha didn't know how old the brothers were, but she assumed they were much younger than Thorin. "Fairies live longer than dwarves."

"Like elves?" Ori asked.

"Not that long. Only till about 1000," she replied with a playful smile. "In our language, szelemér means descendent, because we were created from the very first elves. According to myths, the Valar grew lazy while creating the elves, so half of them became the fairies."

She laughed softly when she saw the mixture of expressions on the dwarves' faces. Some looked confused; others, like Thorin, seemed to understand her jest but were unamused. Bilbo must have noticed, too, for he smiled at her to reassure her that she had his support, at least.

"We're similar to elves and share many of the same attributes, just to a lesser degree," she explained. "However, we do not possess their resistance to illness."

"And what of your skill for healing?" asked Óin.

"The szelemér have many great healers, partly because Nemere is rich with potent medicinal plants, but each fairy has an ability that he or she is especially talented in." Talaitha glanced at Gandalf. "Some can wield elemental forces, like the weather mages. Others, like my parents, have less magical though equally useful talents."

A look of realization crossed Thorin's features. "Your last name signifies your strongest skill."

Talaitha raised her eyebrows in surprise, then smiled warmly at the dwarf. "Yes, it's more of an epithet than a name, really, like Oakenshield. In the Common Tongue, my second name is borage, which is a healing herb."

"You mentioned your parents. What are their talents?" Bofur asked.

"My mother, Emese Selyem, is a seamstress who's known for her silk gowns. Selyem means silk in Szila, our language." She felt a pang of homesickness as she thought of all the dresses her mother had sewn for her, dresses that, save for two, were left behind in Nemere. "And my father, Tardos Acél, is a blacksmith, specializing in steel. In fact, he makes the swords for the royal family and its guard."

The dwarves murmured in approval; their respect for Talaitha had just grown considerably, for dwarvish culture revolved around smithing of every kind. "Did your father forge that blade?" asked Fili, nodding at her sword.

Talaitha unsheathed her sword once more, the curved blade with its clipped tip glinting in the waning sunlight."No. Though it is of traditional szelemér design, the elvish blacksmiths of Rivendell actually crafted it." She smiled fondly. "It was a gift from Lord Elrond."

Thorin hadn't paid much attention to the weapon during the sparring matches, as he was preoccupied with assessing Talaitha's skills, but now he stared at it with furrowed brows. Talaitha seemed to guess his thoughts, for she handed him the sword.

It was light, far lighter than a sword its size should be. "Mithril," he breathed. His right hand tightened on the agate grip, while his left hand ghosted over the glittering, silver blade.

Talaitha nodded. "If it were made of steel, I wouldn't be able to wield it."

She took the sword back and held it almost lovingly. The expression on her face caused Thorin's heartbeat to quicken, though he couldn't fathom why.

"I've named it Ezüstlélek. Silversoul," she said with a wry smile, which was lost on all but Bilbo and Gandalf.

The rest of the afternoon was passed in congenial conversation, and Talaitha found that she quite enjoyed the dwarves' company, especially now that they'd begun to accept her as a traveling companion. Even Dwalin's demeanor seemed to thaw towards her after their skirmish. Thorin, however, still revealed no emotion, though he'd certainly felt himself stirring whenever she teased the wizard or smiled at the hobbit.

And when she caught his gaze as she laughed at something Kili said, he couldn't stop the slight upturn of his lips. Her laugh was full and loud, not delicate as he'd expected it to be, but somehow he liked it even better this way.

Aulë help him, for he was in danger of growing fond of the fairy.

#

It was dark when Talaitha, dressed once more in the midnight blue gown and circlet, knocked on Thorin's door. After a few minutes, it opened to reveal the dwarf, looking surlier than usual. Whatever cheer he'd felt earlier had dissipated when he realized why Talaitha was there.

"Come. Elrond wishes to speak with you."

Thorin considered protesting, but he knew it would do no good. The dwarves were Elrond's guests, and they really did need someone to decipher the ancient dwarvish runes. So said his logical half, at least; the stubborn half vehemently cursed the elves for abandoning them to Smaug's wrath and wanted nothing to do with them.

Yet he followed Talaitha to an airy room, where Elrond, Gandalf, and Bilbo were already awaiting him. Balin arrived shortly after, escorted by Lindir. Thorin noticed that although the elf departed, Talaitha remained.

"What's this about orcs?" Talaitha asked, moving beside Bilbo, who she sensed felt out of place and could use a friend.

"A pack of orcs were hunting us. The very same pack you'd encountered," Gandalf replied.

"I thought orcs didn't venture this far north." Her voice was tinged with confusion, and she worried her lower lip.

Gandalf shared an ominous glance with Balin as he said, "Ordinarily they do not."

"Perhaps it has something to do with why you were on the East-West Road," Elrond mused.

Thorin finally spoke, his voice firm. "Our business is no concern of elves."

"For goodness' sake, Thorin, show him the map," Gandalf said.

"It is the legacy of my people. It is mine to protect," Thorin replied lowly. "As are its secrets."

"Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves." It seemed Gandalf had lost his patience. "Your pride will be your downfall. You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle-earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond!"

Everyone's attention now turned to the dwarf king, who was glaring at Gandalf. But to Talaitha's surprise, instead of arguing, Thorin withdrew the map and, ignoring Balin's protest, gave it to Elrond.

"Erebor," the elf remarked in surprise. "What is your interest in this map?"

Before Thorin could reply, Gandalf said, "It's mainly academic. As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text."

It didn't look as though Elrond completely believed the wizard, but he studied the map regardless. "You still read Ancient Dwarvish, do you not?" Gandalf asked.

Elrond didn't reply immediately. He took the map to a brighter area of the room. "Cirth ithil."

"Moon runes," Gandalf breathed. "Of course." He smiled at Bilbo. "An easy thing to miss."

"Well in this case, it is true," said Elrond, turning the map over. "Moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written."

In spite of his dislike of elves, Thorin sounded hopeful. "Can you read them?"

Elrond smiled wryly and motioned for them to follow. He led them to a part of Rivendell Talaitha had never seen. On an outcropping of rock, surrounded by waterfalls, stood a clear, crystal pedestal.

"These runes were written on a midsummer's eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly 200-years-ago," Elrond explained. He placed the map on the pedestal. "It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield, for the same moon shines upon us tonight."

Talaitha watched in awe as silvery runes appeared on the map when the light of the moon touched it. Elrond began reading.

"Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun, with the last light of Durin's Day, will shine upon the keyhole."

"Durin's Day?" Bilbo questioned.

"It is the start of the dwarves' new year," Gandalf answered. "When the last moon of autumn and the first moon of winter appear in the sky together."

"This is ill news," Thorin said gravely. "Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us."

"We still have time," Balin reassured him.

Bilbo looked confused. "Time? For what?"

Balin spared Bilbo a glance. "To find the entrance." He turned back to Thorin. "We have to be standing in exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. Then and only then can the door be opened."

"So this is your purpose," Elrond said, not sounding the least bit surprised. "To enter the mountain."

Thorin looked up at the elf, almost as if to challenge him. "What of it?"

"There are some who would not deem it wise," Elrond's tone was tinged with disapproval and something else Talaitha had never heard in it. Was it a warning?

"What do you mean?" Gandalf asked, great eyebrows furrowed.

Elrond regarded the wizard sternly. "You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle-earth."

"Who does he mean?" Bilbo asked Talaitha.

She shook her head helplessly and followed Elrond from the moon pedestal down to the halls. He politely dismissed Balin, Bilbo, and Thorin, then motioned for Gandalf and Talaitha to accompany him.

"With or without our help, these dwarves will march on the mountain," said Gandalf, as Elrond led them up a flight of stairs. "They're determined to reclaim their homeland. I do not believe Thorin Oakenshield feels he's answerable to anyone."

Talaitha silently agreed. Nothing, not even an army of elves, men, and wizards, would deter Thorin from his quest.

"Nor, for that matter, am I," Gandalf added as an afterthought.

Elrond stopped at the entrance to a courtyard. "It is not me you must answer to."

Talaitha had been watching the interaction between the elf and the wizard, but now she followed their gazes and gasped at what she saw. Galadriel stood at the center of a dais, her long, fair hair shining like spun silver in the moonlight. Talaitha had heard of the beauty and wisdom of the Lady of Lothlórien, but the stories could not convey the sense of calm she felt when Galadriel's glance passed over her.

"Lady Galadriel." Even Gandalf looked and sounded awestruck.

"Mithrandir," Galadriel reciprocated.

She and Gandalf exchanged words in Elvish, but Talaitha understood perfectly well that the wizard was quite fond of the elf. Talaitha glanced up at Elrond and saw his smile was identical to her own. Galadriel, too, smiled sweetly.

"I had no idea Lord Elrond had sent for you," said Gandalf.

But it was not the lord of Rivendell who answered; this voice was much deeper. "He didn't. I did."

Gandalf turned toward the speaker, trying to hide his wince, and bowed his head respectfully. Talaitha, too, had recognized the voice and had inched closer to Elrond, hoping she'd remain unseen.

"Saruman."

"You've been busy of late, my friend," the White Wizard replied with a hint of amusement. "And Talaitha Borvirág, we meet again."

Her stomach flipped unpleasantly. She'd met Saruman once before, and even then she'd felt uneasy. He was not evil, of course, but neither was he warm like Gandalf, and she could feel the authority and power he exuded.

She stifled the urge to hide behind Elrond and dipped her head courteously instead. "A fortunate happenstance," she replied with the polite smile she'd perfected over the years.

While Gandalf and Saruman spoke, Talaitha moved to the edge of the courtyard, wondering what she was even doing there. Then she saw Galadriel walking towards her, and she bowed her head, suddenly feeling nervous.

Galadriel seemed to sense as much, for she smiled warmly. "I have heard much about your gifts in the healing arts," she said. "Also that you shall accompany Thorin Oakenshield on his quest."

Talaitha eyes widened, and she glanced at Gandalf, but he was now conversing with Elrond and didn't see her. She decided to be honest with Galadriel; this council was convened to discuss the quest, so the truth would surface anyway.

"Gandalf believes my skills will be useful."

"But you do not share his confidence." Galadriel was watching her intently, but Talaitha didn't feel unnerved. On the contrary, she was relieved that she didn't have to hide her doubts. Not that she _could_ hide them from the elf, but at least she didn't have to try.

"What chance does my talent stand against a dragon?" Talaitha met Galadriel's gaze.

The Lady of Lórien took Talaitha's hands in her own. "That I cannot answer," she replied. "But I do know that Mithrandir's faith in you is not unfounded. Trust in yourself." Then, Talaitha heard Galadriel's voice in her head. _:Thorin Oakenshield will need you before the end.:_

Before Talaitha could push aside her surprise and ask what she'd meant, Galadriel had joined Elrond and Saruman. Gandalf appeared by Talaitha's side and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Go find Bilbo," he said gently. "I'm afraid I quite turned his life upside down."

Talaitha smiled, though she knew Gandalf was dismissing her, albeit kindly. And when he glanced at Saruman, she understood it was done at the behest of the White Wizard. However, rather than feeling offended, she was glad, for she was anxious to leave Saruman's presence.

She bade the council farewell, but as she was about to descend the stairs, she felt compelled to turn back toward the courtyard. When she did, she met Galadriel's gaze. _:Remember, Talaitha, the body will not be the only thing in need of healing.:_


	9. Chapter 9: The Princess and the King

Hiya!

Am I on time? I think I am. The chick I'm sharing a hotel room with at the conference has absolutely nothing in common with me (not even research interests), so our conversations sputtered out fairly quickly. Good news, though, for it allowed me to write chapter 9! I've got chapter 10 all planned and will start when I get home, probably tomorrow night.

Much love to each and every reader!

Kendal: Hawaii, yes, but I'm stuck inside for most of the day because of presentations. :/ I did, however, manage to visit the beach my first day!

Kaia: Don't worry, the only way I'll abandon this story is if I die. And thank you! Luckily, my role in this conference was minimal, as I just assisted in some of the isotope analysis. Next one, though...*crosses fingers*

MugglebornPrincessa: It's pretty awesome, I admit. :) I'm still in school, though I do get to assist in forensic cases! And then there's my thesis research.

Kat7CA: Thank you!

TheStarfish: Oh dear, I hope everything's okay now! Or at least less taxing. If you need a chat, you're welcome to pm me. Oh my goodness, that's high praise indeed! *prances* I don't really plan Talaitha; she just...happens.

Theta-McBride: THANK YOU! :D

LianaDare8: Updated. :)

An Echo In Time: Well, she was sort of there for the orcs. But yeah, I didn't want it to seem too redundant, as I do use some scenes straight from the film. And later will with the novel. The fight scenes were fun to write, so I'm glad you enjoyed them. :)

thatredheadedchick: Fleeting attention spans, gotta love 'em ;). And thank you! Honestly, the Hungarian myth tie-ins are the most exciting part of this story for me!

whiterose02: Oh it'll pick up indeed... Case in point, this chapter. XD

Naomi: Officially flattered beyond belief! *hugs*

Just4Me: I enjoyed writing the scene with Galadriel, even though I struggled to keep her in character. She's so regal, and I'm so _not_. And there's one other story I know in which the main chick's a fairy, though she's more the traditional sidhe-type. Story's called _Where the Fairies Play_.

3insteinComplex: Oh, you. :) I feel so accomplished that my pairing's been given a name! Talarin rolls off the tongue rather nicely. As for a nickname...Laitha? Idk, I'm crap at names. Takes me hours to come up with them.

This chapter features even _more_ information on Talaitha, and it's quite a departure for Talarin. Dare I say it even borders on overkill? But hey, for all of Thorin's angry growling and scowling, I figure _other_ passions have been rather repressed, and I explored that idea a bit. I'll bet I just gave you all false hopes, huh? Oh well. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I only own Talaitha and her horse, though perhaps after the end of this chapter, they'll disown me...

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**Chapter 9: The Princess and the King**

Galadriel's parting words were tumbling around Talaitha's mind when she reached her room. Although she vaguely noticed the light of the dwarves' fire farther down the hall, she was oblivious to the figure leaning against a column in the shadows.

"Elves enjoy their decorations, but even they do not lightly bestow the honor of a circlet."

Talaitha gasped, glaring at the speaker and placing a hand over her heart to still its frantic beating. "Yes, well your quest has certainly attracted _attention_, Thorin Oakenshield. There is a meeting of the White Council."

Thorin quirked a brow at her, amused that he'd startled her and that she'd deftly sidestepped his unspoken question. "And are you to join the Council?"

Talaitha shifted uneasily. "Of course not. Otherwise I would not have been here for you to sneak up on," she snapped. "But I did meet Galadriel and Saruman."

"And that is why you wear the circlet." He was smirking.

Talaitha gave an imperceptible nod and moved to the balcony to look down upon Rivendell. Thorin allowed the silence to linger for a few moments as he watched the woman from the corner of his eye. In that moment, she emanated tranquility, and he felt his own anxieties temporarily slip away. But then he clamped down on his emotions. If Talaitha was to journey with the Company, she would relinquish her secrets.

"No, you wear the circlet because you are a princess."

Talaitha's head snapped up. "If Gandalf told you, I swear-"

"He did not," Thorin replied with the barest of smiles. "But why do you wish to hide it?"

She scowled. "Because the title is inconsequential, as I am only a princess through marriage. No royal blood flows through my veins," she explained. "My mother's sister married the king, and my cousins are my uncle's heirs."

"Do you wish to be the heir?" Thorin watched her closely.

"Gods, no!" Talaitha laughed. "I have received preparation in the unlikely event should I become queen, but I am certain I am entirely unsuited for the position. It requires one to be too regulated...and stiff."

She glanced at Thorin and saw his eyes darken. Fearing she'd offended him, she quickly added, "I could never be as devoted to my people as you are to yours."

"Yet I am also stiff," he murmured, but he didn't sound angry.

Talaitha grinned. "Well, I have hardly seen you smile, so my limited time with you leads me to believe that, yes."

Thorin stepped towards her. "And what else have you learned in your limited time with me?" His voice was low and bordering on rough. He vaguely realized he was flirting with her, and he knew he should distance himself before he crossed a line, but he was too curious about how she'd respond.

For a few seconds, Talaitha felt nervous at their closeness, and she half expected him to do something untoward though not entirely unwanted. But then she focused on his question.

"You are loyal but slow to forgive, stubborn but will yield if it helps your people." Her gaze flitted to his coat, and she smiled warmly. "And though at times you're ill-tempered, you can also be quite kind."

He was about to reply, but the words died in his throat when she closed the distance between them and placed her hands on his shoulders. It was the first contact they'd shared, and even though there was armor and clothing beneath her palms, a small spark ignited within him. He wondered if she'd felt it, too.

It was only when he saw her lips move that he realized she was still speaking."You are so very guarded, Thorin Oakenshield. I wonder how you can carry the fate of your kin on your shoulders." Her voice was soft and tinged with sadness.

"I carry it because I must," he said, silently cursing the sudden hoarseness in his voice.

Talaitha, however, didn't appear to notice as she removed her hands from his shoulders and turned back toward the balcony's railing. Unbeknownst to Thorin, she had indeed felt the same jolt when she'd touched him, and the possible implications frightened her. But she couldn't dwell on them now.

"And that is why _you_ are worthy of a crown and I am not," she remarked. Her casual tone seemed wrong, given the subject.

Thorin moved to stand beside her. "You are a healer. I do not believe you would abandon your people if they needed you."

"Perhaps not," she said, shrugging. "But it is telling that I am conversing with a dwarf rather than with my own kin."

"The szelemér." Thorin pronounced the word slowly, testing it on his tongue. His tone was neutral, but he was still wrapping his mind around the fact that he was speaking to an actual fairy.

Talaitha was silent for a moment as she absent-mindedly ran a hand through her wavy, copper-hued hair. He wondered how those curls would feel between his own fingers.

"Some would say I'm uncharacteristic for my race. I'm much too curious of what lies beyond Nemere."

Thorin's eyebrows raised at her admission, and when he turned to her-as the moon cast an almost ethereal glow on her pale skin-, she certainly looked like the fairies of legend, even if they weren't real. He half expected her to suddenly unfurl her myth-wings and fly off into the night.

She avoided Thorin's gaze, still unsure of his opinion of her. He'd consented to her inclusion in his quest, but that was probably due to practicality, rather than trust. She knew Thorin despised elves, and though the szelemér were _not_ elves, they were, however, created from them. She worried he now felt the same revulsion toward her.

Thorin was wrestling with similar thoughts. He saw the similarities between Talaitha and the elves-the pointed ears, lithe figure, fair features-, yet he could not view her with the same disdain, though he'd certainly tried. That was not to say he trusted her; on the contrary, he was experiencing conflicting emotions. The rational part of his mind warned him she was dangerous, for she stole his concentration from his quest. But a smaller, less logical part insisted he couldn't continue through life being suspicious of everyone he met. And his heart whispered that she was not one who would betray him.

The silence had grown stale, and Thorin, seeking refuge from his thoughts, decided to indulge his curiosity. "I saw the same design that's on your locket in one of our history tomes."

Talaitha looked confused for a few seconds, as though she, too, had been lost in contemplation, but then she nodded. "It is one of the traditional szelemér designs, probably the most common actually." She touched the cold metal around her neck.

"Does the design mean anything?" Thorin asked, his gaze dropping to the necklace. He was tempted to look lower, below the silver hemming of the gown's neckline, but he stopped himself.

She smiled. "Only that our culture reveres plants. Especially our healers."

Raucous laughter carried down the hall, drawing Talaitha's attention to the fire blazing on a nearby balcony. She watched as the table on which Bombur sat collapsed under his weight. "Why do you not sleep in your chambers?"

"We do not readily accept the hospitality of the elves." There was only a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"Yet I believe that fire is kept burning with Lord Elrond's furniture," she said playfully, just as Bofur tossed a table leg into the flames. Thorin smirked.

"I'm not sure I'd pass up a bed, no matter who was offering it," she remarked. "Well, I'd probably decline an orc's offer, and probably a troll's, too..."

A genuine, hearty laugh erupted from Thorin, bringing such a radiant smile to Talaitha's face that he almost vowed to laugh as much as possible just to see it again. His logical side prepared to scold him, but for once, he stifled it.

"Many nights are spent sleeping against a horse on the hard ground, so I take advantage of a bed when I can," she continued. "Which is why I don't understand your stubbornness."

Thorin mused that if Talaitha shared the bed with him, he might be more amenable to accept elvish hospitality. Then he berated himself for the inappropriate and imprudent thought. No matter how desirable Talaitha was or how much time had passed since he'd been with a woman, his quest took precedence. It had to, or else what meaning did his life have?

When Thorin looked at her again, she was watching him with a curious expression, probably wondering where his thoughts had led him. He cleared his throat and, with it, his musings.

"It's late. I shall leave you to sleep." He took her hand and pressed a soft kiss upon the knuckles, allowing his lips to linger for a few seconds. A gentle warmth spread through them both. "Goodnight, Talaitha."

She stared at their still-joined hands, before pulling away with a blush. "Goodnight, Thorin."

As he made his way toward his kin, Talaitha remained where she was, unmoving, watching the dwarf's retreating back. She looked down at her knuckles, which still tingled from Thorin's kiss. What on Middle-earth did that gesture mean? With a harsh sigh, she entered her chambers and prepared for bed, though she knew sleep would come reluctantly.

#

It was still dark when Talaitha awoke to a knock on her door. She wondered if it was Elrond, coming to inform her of the White Council's verdict, or if not he, then Gandalf, for who else would seek her before dawn?

Ignoring the velvet dressing gown at the foot of her bed, she stumbled to the door and opened it, a reproach for waking her on her lips. But that scolding died in her throat when her gaze fell on a dwarf, instead of on an elf or a wizard.

"Gather your belongings. We depart in 10 minutes," Thorin said gruffly. His glance dropped to her silken nightgown, which revealed far too much skin for the dwarf to remain unaffected. He felt himself stir at the sight of her breasts peeking out from the top of her dress.

"But it's not yet dawn," Talaitha replied dumbly, only partly because of the early hour. She'd experienced a momentary lapse in sense as Thorin eyed her cleavage.

He finally looked back at her face, nearly smirking at the blush that had crept into her cheeks. "That's the idea."

Talaitha quickly regained her composure. "You're going to sneak away." The accusation was hard, almost cold.

Thorin didn't respond, merely turned on his heel and walked down the hall, leaving the fairy seething in her doorway. She contemplated telling Elrond but knew that if she did, Saruman would try to stop the dwarves. Nevertheless, she felt cowardly and guilty for leaving Rivendell without the elves' knowledge.

Closing the door with a scowl, she cast one last, longing look at her soft bed before donning her breeches, blouse, and corset. As she inspected her appearance in the mirror, she strapped her bow, quiver of arrows, and sword onto her back, then buckled her medicine satchel and daggers around her hips.

As quietly as she could manage, Talaitha crept down to the stables, silencing Szélvész's greeting with a shake of her head. The mare seemed to understand and remained quiet while Talaitha began tying the packs onto her back. The sound of approaching footsteps stilled her motions.

"She cannot come, Talaitha," Thorin said with surprising gentleness.

The fairy whipped around to face the dwarf, green eyes sparking with anger. "First you make me sneak out of Rivendell behind a dear friend's back, and now you tell me I can't bring Szélvész?"

"We will be traveling through mountains," he replied, unperturbed by her sharp tone. "That is no place for a horse, not even a fairy's horse."

Though Szélvész didn't understand the words, she did realize that something was wrong. Her mistress had begun untying the bag that she'd only just attached to her back. She took the strap of the leather pack between her teeth and tugged, getting Talaitha's attention.

The fairy hugged the mare's neck, smiling when Szélvész nuzzled her cheek, and whispered words in Szila into her fuzzy ear. Thorin allowed Talaitha a few moments with the horse, then touched her shoulder. "Dawn approaches."

Talaitha sniffled but followed Thorin from the stables, looking back at her equine traveling companion a final time before she was surrounded by dwarves. They were all assembled and appeared eager to continue their quest, or perhaps they were just happy to be rid of the elves. At that moment, she was too concerned with leaving Szélvész to really care which.

Thorin glanced at Talaitha and was relieved to see she'd wiped away her tears. He'd never been particularly adept at handling emotions-neither his nor others'-, so when confronted with them, he usually ignored them. Just like he'd done now.

The fairy, for her part, attempted a smile, mostly because Bilbo looked miserable. She fell in line with the hobbit, silently sharing his complaints, as Thorin led them out of the valley. Bilbo stopped for a moment to look wistfully back at Rivendell, just as the sun was rising over it.

"Master Baggins, I suggest you keep up."

Talaitha glared at Thorin. If this was how he was going to treat Bilbo for the entire journey, she and the dwarf would be sharing many heated conversations.


	10. Chapter 10: Up, Up, Up They Go!

Good morning/afternoon/evening!

I'm on time! Barely. I'm at my second (and final) anthropology conference; gave my presentation, and it went well. But my laptop's DC plug decided to die on me (i.e. it won't recognize the adapter), so I'm uploading this before my battery goes. :/ When I get home tomorrow, I'll take it into a repair shop, because I've got to finish chapter 11!

Bless all of you who followed, favorited, and reviewed this story. 3

Theta-McBride: Thank you! :D

Lift the Wings: Phew! I'm so glad you think so, because I struggle with him. Thank you! :)

LianaDare8: Haha, you've been very patient with the innocence of this story thus far. Thorin's been attracted to her for a while now; he's just letting his resolve slip a bit now. ;)

Kat7CA: Thank you! No jealous Thorin in this chapter, but there is in the next. Not hardcore I'm-going-rip-that-elf's-head-off jealousy, just a twinge of it. I've already written it. XD

Just4Me: I'm all for those thoughts, too. ;) And I suspect her horse is getting thoroughly spoiled by little elf children.

Bluebird who whistles: Thank you. :)

3insteinComplex: Talaitha's being a princess isn't just a random Disney moment. XD Though I admit I like the warrior princess thing-sort of like Xena! But not nearly as kickass. Me likey Thorin's naughty thoughts, too. More to come in this chapter!

Jeune Coeur: Oh my goodness, thank you! *blushes*

Lord Jace: Thank you! :)

FleurSuoh: The wait is over!

Abyss Prime: Things _are_ heating up...at about the speed of global warming. XD Wow, that was an inappropriate metaphor.

Guest: I imagine kicking Thorin's ass would be delightfully fun. :D

: I LOVE THAT REVIEW. Updated. :)

In this chapter:

1. Check my profile for an image of Talaitha's twin daggers. They, like her sword, are based off an old Hungarian design.

2. I took 3insteinComplex's suggestion and gave Talaitha a nickname. :)

3. I followed the novel on this chapter, since the Company doesn't chat much on the trek up the mountains. Also, Bilbo's line about hay and picnics is taken from the book; I've just paraphrased it.

4. More Talarin (Talaitha+Thorin) interaction! And wait for it...a kiss! Of sorts. And more naughty thoughts.

5. Does the chapter title sound familiar?

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I only own Talaitha and her horse, who doesn't even appear in this chapter. I'm rather character-poor. XD

Talaitha: (indignantly) I heard that!

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**Chapter 10: Up, Up, Up the Mountain They Go!**

It was well past midday when the Company paused to eat and rest at the edge of an evergreen forest. Only one member of the group had yet to take a break. Bilbo and the dwarves watched as Talaitha tirelessly darted between the trees, gathering purple flowers.

"She may know how to fight, but she's really just like any other girl." Kili smirked.

"She's not picking the flowers for fun," said Óin. "Those are sweet violets. They have restorative properties."

That piqued Thorin's curiosity. Although Talaitha had proven herself a competant warrioress, her healing knowledge remained untested, and it was his duty as leader to ascertain it. At least that's what he told himself when he joined her in the forest.

"You look like a bee, flitting from flower to flower."

Talaitha spared him a glance before she cut a bunch of sweet violets with a steel dagger. "I prefer hummingbird." She smiled. "Anyway, you'll be glad for these at the end of the day."

Truthfully, plants were inconsequential to Thorin. Talaitha's dagger, however, was another matter. It was no simple knife; delicate scrollwork had been etched into the blade, and the gold grip had floral accents with a pearl at the center of each metal flower.

"It has a twin," said Talaitha, noticing Thorin's interest in her blade. She pulled the other from her belt and handed it to him. "My father made them for me before I left home."

Thorin twirled the dagger, testing its balance and weight. "Then he is an expert craftsman."

"I know." She smiled proudly, but her eyes held a sadness that made Thorin's heart twinge. Luckily, however, he was saved from what would surely have been an awkward reply.

"That should be enough." It took a moment for Thorin to realize Talaitha meant the flowers. "I hope Bombur didn't eat my share of the bread." Her green eyes sparkled with mirth, causing Thorin's lips to tug upward in a small smile.

Yes, he was definitely growing fond of the fairy.

#

Many paths led up into the Misty Mountains, but, as the Company soon realized, most of those were dead ends. Even with Gandalf's directions, they'd taken a wrong turn a few times, though Talaitha wasn't surprised with Thorin leading the way. He _had_ gotten lost in Hobbiton, after all. Twice.

"Don't _you_ know the way, lass?" asked Bofur, when the Company backtracked for the third time.

"I've never traveled these parts," Talaitha replied in a clipped tone, as though she were trying to remain calm. A strong gust of wind nudged her towards the edge of the mountain path, and she gripped Dwalin's arm in fright, for he was nearest her. He pretended not to notice, and she silently thanked him for it.

Kili, on the other hand, wasn't as kind. "Are you afraid of heights?"

"No," she snapped and released Dwalin's arm as proof. "I'm just afraid of the fall from them."

"Don't worry, Laitha, we won't let you fall." Kili winked and slung an arm around her shoulder. "Isn't that right, Brother?"

Talaitha hadn't noticed Fili's arrival until he, too, placed his arm around her. "Indeed it is."

"Oh go away, the both of you," she grumbled, but her retort was softened by her grin.

When the group reached a split in the road, Thorin stopped to discuss with Balin which fork to take. Talaitha joined Bilbo near the front as he looked longingly to the west, no doubt thinking about the Shire.

"Summer is getting on. They're making hay and having picnics," he said. "By the time we get off this blasted mountain, they'll have picked the blackberry bushes bare."

Talaitha saw the derisive look Thorin flashed Bilbo and decided to interrupt the hobbit's complaints, lest the surly dwarf snap at him again. "We're having picnics, too," she deadpanned.

Bilbo stared at her for a few seconds, then smiled. "And Gandalf has missed nearly all of them."

"A terrible loss."

Their banter continued until Thorin finally decided to take the left path. After that, conversation was sparse, for they were ascending further up the mountain, where the air was cold and thin. Not for the first time, Talaitha wished she'd brought warmer clothes.

When the sun began to set, they camped down for the night in an alcove, which offered some protection from the biting wind that had picked up during the day. While Glóin quickly built a fire for Bombur's stew, Talaitha mashed up peppermint leaves and the sweet violets she'd gathered earlier for an infusion that would ease the Company's aching muscles.

Some dwarves were less apt to accept the infusion, for that would hint at weakness, but eventually, even Dwalin drank his. Only Thorin's cup remained. The king was standing with his back to the group, staring out over the lands below. Talaitha grabbed his stew and tea and joined him.

"Eat," she said, handing him the bowl.

Thorin barely glanced at her as he sat down against a boulder. Talaitha set down the cup and was about to leave, when Thorin's hand touched her wrist. "Stay."

She hesitated for a few seconds, then brought over her own stew and infusion and sat beside him, pulling up her knees against the wind. She tried not to shiver but wasn't entirely successful. Thorin moved closer until their sides were touching, and she immediately felt warmer.

They ate in comfortable silence, but when he sniffed the contents of the cup, Talaitha couldn't help the giggle that passed her lips.

"It's just an infusion of peppermint and sweet violet, with a touch of honey to sweeten it," she said. "It'll help you feel less sore."

Thorin regarded her with a quirk of his brow. "And what makes you think I feel sore?"

"Right, I'd forgotten. You dwarves are hardier folk who are immune to fatigue and pain." Talaitha's tone was reverent, but there was an amused glint in her eyes.

Thorin knew she was mocking him, but somehow, he didn't mind. "We are certainly hardier than halflings."

"You shouldn't doubt him so much." There was a slight edge to her voice. "There's more to Bilbo than meets the eye."

"You are biased by your friendship with the hobbit."

"I have known him for many years, yes, but those years have taught me his qualities." Talaitha looked at Thorin. "Just as you are different from your kin, so, too, is Bilbo from his."

Thorin's eyebrows raised in curiosity. "How do I differ from my kin?"

As answer, an argument broke out because Bofur wouldn't let Bombur have a third helping of stew.

"You are more refined, for one."

Thorin's eyes sparkled with mirth, and the sides of his mouth twitched upward in a small smile. "And the hobbit?"

"He craves to see Middle-earth. His books and my stories will only satiate his curiosity for so long."

Thorin considered her words. She sounded so certain, but he still saw a creature of comfort-someone who cherished his armchair and well-stocked pantry, not someone who was capable of stealing treasure from a dragon.

"Yet he is no burglar."

"No, but he will _become_ the burglar you need along the way." Talaitha saw Thorin still looked unconvinced. "Just give him a chance."

He didn't respond, but he did drink the herbal infusion. "This tastes better than I'd expected."

"What good would an infusion be if it's too vile to drink?" She grinned. "It's a bit like cooking, I suppose. One must find a combination of ingredients that's pleasing to the palate, except a healer must also know which plants are helpful or harmful together."

"And this makes you happy?"

Talaitha cocked her head slightly. "You mean healing?" At his nod, she continued. "It's more of a compulsion than a choice, really. That's how talents work among fairies. We don't choose them. _They_ choose _us_."

"What if you deny the compulsion?"

"You feel fragmented, as though a piece of you is missing." She shrugged. "Or so I've heard. I'd always just accepted mine." She paused, sipping her drink. "But yes, I do enjoy being a healer."

"You could heal in Nemere."

Talaitha nodded. "I could, but I wasn't content to remain there forever. Just as the szelemér are shrouded in myth among the peoples of Middle-earth, so, too, are you among the szelemér. I wanted to see the truth."

Thorin turned to her, and their gazes met. "You are unlike anyone I've met."

"Have you met many fairies?"

He looked at her pointedly. "That is not how I meant it."

Talaitha smiled. "Likewise. And I've met many dwarves."

Thorin returned her smile as his heart warmed with her admission. She turned, leaning even closer to him, so that her breast brushed his arm, and kissed his cheek.

"Good night, Thorin Oakenshield." Then she collected the bowls and cups and returned to the fire.

Thorin was still for a moment, not even daring to breathe for fear that any movement or noise would somehow make null what had just happened. He could still feel the softness of her lips, the coldness of her nose, and the warmth of her exhaled breath on his skin. If such a chaste kiss left him with so many sensations, what would a proper kiss feel like? How smooth would her skin be beneath his fingers? What sound would she make if he kissed that long, pale neck?

Thorin groaned and rested his head against the boulder a little harder than necessary, but he relished the slight pain. Not the first time since meeting Talaitha, he wished he were a regular dwarf. Then he could surrender to his desires.


	11. Chapter 11: Giants and Goblins and Wargs

I'm late! I'm sorry! My laptop is still not fixed; the repair shop found the frame around the DC plug was damaged, too, so they had to order an additional part. :/ But they said it should be done on Monday. Fingers crossed! In the meantime, I've been using my mother's laptop, which she thankfully brought up with her when she picked me up from the airport after the Tennessee conference. XD Mothers are wonderful; go hug yours, if she's near.

In addition to my computer woes, I've been absolutely _swamped_ with work. I have three final papers due next week; I've had to schedule extra lab times for the undergrad osteology students, who have their final practical next week (which I have to set up, joy); I've been sitting in on their presentations of their final paper, half of which I'm grading; and I've been prepping for my flight to Hungary in 2 weeks.

So yeah, it's been a busy week. This chapter was written in any spare time I had, usually in snatches and when I was probably too tired to write. But as Ernest Hemmingway said, "write drunk. Edit sober." And let me tell you, this chapter was absolute shit until I sat down tonight to edit it. Part of the difficulty of this chapter was that I followed the film's events, which were chaotic and fast-paced, which made _my_ writing chaotic and fast-paced. But I tried to break up the action with tiny glimpses of how Talaitha was faring.

As always, hugs for the reviews, favorites, and follows. :)

LianaDare8: And they'll continue getting somewhere in this chapter. XD

MugglebornPrincesa: It'd be lovely if he _did_ surrender, wouldn't it. Darn that pesky sense of duty.

PS: Lol, hold your horses! M-rated chapters are miles away. I don't usually write them, but we'll see where Talarin (Talaitha+Thorin's official ship name) takes me. I'm glad you're enjoying it, though. :)

Abyss Prime: A little naughty is good. XD

Just4Me: Thanks, I like Laitha, too! Though choices were limited, lol. And yes, it's about time Thorin's heart thawed a bit. :)

loveorpain: :D

Caity: Thank you! I felt the pictures were necessary with my mediocre descriptive skills. XD

KillerKadoogan: Thank you, dear! I struggle with Thorin, so it makes me incredibly happy that people think he's well-written. :)

Kat7CA: YAYAYAYA! Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying _Soul Healing_. :D

A few things about this chapter:

1. It nearly killed me.

2. Waists are heavily featured.

3. This is the last chapter that will follow the film. From here on out, I'm using the novel as a guide and massively expanding upon it with my own vision. You have been warned. XD

4. It's _long_.

5. It nearly killed me.

Enjoy! And I apologize again for my tardiness.

**Disclaimer**: I only own Laitha, the poor lass. Though I think I'm growing on her.

* * *

**Chapter 11: Giants and Goblins and Wargs...Oh My!**

Talaitha hated mountains. She hated climbing up them. She hated climbing down them. And she _really_ hated scaling the side of them in a storm. The ledge they traversed was narrow enough, but as the rain sluiced down it, the rock became slippery, causing her to nearly lose her footing more than once. She was surprised Bombur hadn't toppled into the valley below yet, for even she, with her smaller frame, had little room to spare.

Up ahead, she heard Bilbo's alarmed cry and Dwalin's grunt, but she didn't dare look up from her feet's path to see what had happened. She guessed, though, that Bilbo had tripped and would've fallen over the side had Dwalin not caught him.

"Look out!" came Dwalin's shout.

Now Talaitha did raise her gaze, and she instantly regretted it. A massive boulder was hurtling in their direction; it smashed against the mountain above them and rained down large fragments of rock. Talaitha bent double to protect her head and neck.

"This is no thunderstorm. It's a thunder battle!" Balin shouted over the fray.

What they'd believed to be another mountain lifted a boulder above its head. Moving mountains were Talaitha's worst nightmare, even if she didn't realize it until this moment.

"Well, bless me," Bofur breathed in awe. "The legends are true. Giants! Stone giants!"

The giant threw the boulder at another one, shattering its "head" and causing more rock pieces to pelt the Company. Talaitha bit her cheek to keep from shrieking as part of the ledge beneath her feet crumbled.

Just then, their mountain split in two. She heard Kili behind her yell for Fili, who'd been separated from his brother by the gap. Talaitha looked up in horror as she realized that their "mountain" was actually a stone giant, and they were perched precariously on its craggy knees.

This time, when their giant careened to the side, Talaitha did scream. She felt Kili wrap an arm around her waist from behind to steady her, felt him hold her more tightly when they crashed into the adjacent mountain. Thorin wasted no time in getting off the stone giant's knees, but Talaitha was so stunned that Dori, who was ahead of her, had to pull her forward to get her to move. The sharp yank was enough to break her daze, and she jumped to safety shortly before their giant moved away to bash another.

But Fili and some of the other dwarves were still stuck in the battle, and Talaitha watched with wide, terrified eyes as they were slammed into the rock face.

"No! Fili!" Thorin cried and rushed forward.

Talaitha took Kili's hand, but it hung limply in her own, and when she saw his grief-stricken face, she nearly cried. Miraculously, however, Glóin announced that Fili and the others were alive. Talaitha's spritis lifted, and she thought that maybe, just maybe, the worst was over.

Then she heard Bofur ask where Bilbo was, and her heart sank.

The hobbit was dangling over the edge of the cliff. Talaitha would have gone to him if she could, but the ledge simply wasn't wide enough for her to push past the dwarves. So she watched helplessly as Bofur and Ori tried to help Bilbo, but they couldn't reach him. In the end, it was Thorin who'd dropped beside him and pushed him up, nearly falling himself if not for Dwalin.

Thanks to her keen ears, Talaitha heard Thorin's scathing remark that Bilbo had been lost from the beginning, that he didn't belong amongst them. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to hug the hobbit. And she would have done, but when the Company piled into a cave, she started shivering violently now that the mayhem was over.

Glóin dropped an armful of branches. "Right, let's get a fire started."

"No, no fires," said Thorin. "Not in this place."

"But the lass is chilled to the bone."

Thorin glanced at Talaitha, who was huddled on the floor, knees pulled up to her chest; he heard the chatter of her teeth and frowned. "Fili, Kili. Get Talaitha warmed up."

The brothers grinned. "With pleasure."

Thorin thought they looked and sounded far too enthusiastic, but what choice did he have? He couldn't embrace her in front of the Company, no matter how much he wished to. Besides, his nephews were harmless. Yet even knowing that, he couldn't help the slight stab of jealousy when Fili took off Talaitha's drenched cloak, replacing it with his coat, and Kili pulled her against his chest. Bilbo knelt in front of Talaitha, concern evident on his face, and took her hands in his to warm them.

"You travel all over Middle-earth by yourself, so you surely encounter cold rain and even snow," said Fili. "How do you keep warm then?"

Talaitha's teeth had stopped chattering, but her reply was weak. "Szélvész."

Bilbo noticed the brothers' confused expressions. "Her horse."

Kili laughed, and Talaitha felt the rumble against her body. It was comforting. "The cheeky black and white mare. I like her."

Thorin had eavesdropped long enough. He assigned Bofur first watch, then they settled down for the night. It didn't take long for Talaitha, still wrapped in Fili's coat, to fall asleep beside Bilbo. For Thorin, however, sleep would not come.

#

Talaitha awoke to hushed voices and Bilbo's spot devoid of him. She chanced a glance to the mouth of the cave, where Bilbo and Bofur stood. The hobbit was planning to sneak away while everyone slept.

"You can't turn back now. You're part of the Company. You're one of us."

"I'm not, though, am I?" Bilbo replied. "Thorin said I should never have come, and he was right. I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins. I don't know what I was thinking. I should never have run out my door."

When Talaitha heard that, her initial anger toward Bilbo faded. None of this had been his idea; she and Gandalf had pushed him, and though she still believed he was capable of this quest, maybe it was best to just let him return home.

"You're homesick. I understand."

"No, you don't. You don't understand. None of you do." Bilbo's voice rose slightly. "You're dwarves. You're used to _this_ life, to living on the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere."

Talaitha could have hit Bilbo for his insensitivity, but Bofur didn't sound offended. "No, you're right. We don't belong anywhere."

The sadness in his voice wrenched at Talaitha's heart, for she sympathized with the dwarves, even if she couldn't empathize with them. She knew what it was like to be away from home, to be wandering from place to place, and though she'd chosen her current life, Nemere remained dear to her. That was why she decided to feign sleep, instead of leaving with Bilbo. She couldn't abandon the dwarves in this quest to reclaim _their_ home, not even for one of her closest friends. And somehow she knew Bilbo had understood that.

Suddenly, Talaitha heard Thorin yell for everyone to wake up, but before she could fathom what was happening, she was falling through the floor, screaming all the way down. Thankfully, she'd landed on something quite soft-Bombur.

Her eyes widened when hideous little creatures swarmed them and yanked them to their feet. In the chaos that ensued, Talaitha caught glimpses of the others-of Thorin desperately reaching for Fili and Kili as the goblins dragged him away. She tried to fight off the foul things, but there were too many, and they'd taken her weapons so quickly that she'd barely noticed. She felt a sharp tug on her braid, and she blindly kicked out behind her, grinning when she heard the muffled grunt of a goblin. At one point, Dwalin had managed to grab her arm and pull her towards him. However, their reunion was brief; the goblins bullied them apart, but not before she and the dwarf shoved a few over the bridge. Talaitha tried to find Bilbo, who, unbeknownst to all except Nori, had escaped. Sort of.

The goblins led the Company, minus Bilbo, across rickety bridges into a huge cavern-the heart of the goblins' city. Its ramshackle, wooden platforms were precariously stacked, and they might have fascinated Talaitha if circumstances were different, but at the moment, she was more concerned with her weapons being tossed into a pile. She winced when a goblin stepped on her bow and hoped he'd slice his foot on a blade.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" asked the biggest goblin she'd ever seen. "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?"

"Dwarves, your Malevolence," a goblin replied.

"Dwarves?"

"We found them on the front porch."

Despite their dour situation, Talaitha nearly smirked at the quaint description of the goblins' trap floors. It made this stinking, haphazard place sound homey.

"Well don't just stand there. Search them!" The goblin king grinned. "Every crack. Every crevice."

Talaitha stood between Dori and Thorin, behind Kili, and in front of Glóin, all of whom did their best to hide her. Thorin even nudged her down so that her hair would blend in with Glóin's beard. But one goblin noticed her as he pushed past Dori.

"There's a woman," he said, grabbing Talaitha and dragging her forward. The dwarves tried to stop the goblin, but his comrades held them back.

The goblin king regarded her with a leer. "Well now. I can think of only one reason why a pretty girl like you would be traveling with dwarves."

Talaitha didn't have to ask what he meant; his lascivious tone made it terribly clear. But she wouldn't suffer his insult without offering one of her own. "And _I_ can think of only one reason why you have the largest goiter I've ever seen."

The goblin king chuckled. "You're a feisty little thing. I think I'll keep you." He moved closer to her, and Talaitha suppressed a gag. For a healer, festering wounds and rotting flesh were part of the job, but the massive goblin's fetid stench was worse than anything she'd ever smelled.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Thorin move forward, but Dwalin's hand on his shoulder stopped him. She was glad, for they stood no chance against the goblins. Not weaponless, at least.

The goblin king had noticed the movement, too, and turned back to the dwarves. "What are you doing in these parts? Speak!" No one answered. "Very well. If they will not talk, we'll make them _squawk_. Bring up the Mangler! Bring up the Bone-breaker!"

Cheers erupted in the cavern, and Talaitha shuddered. She didn't know which were worse-goblins or orcs. The goblins seemed more cheerful, but they nevertheless possessed the same cruelty as their larger cousins.

"Start with the youngest." The goblin king pointed to Ori, who looked terrified.

"Wait!" Thorin strode forward.

The goblin king looked pleasantly surprised. "Well, well, well, look who it is. Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, _King_ under the Mountain." He dipped his head in a mocking bow. "Oh, but I'm forgetting you don't have a mountain. And you're not a king, which makes you nobody, really."

Thorin glared up at the goblin king, who continued his taunts. "I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak." His tone became malevolent. "An old enemy of yours. A pale orc astride a white warg."

"Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago." Thorin sounded desperate for his words to be true.

The goblin king laughed. "So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" He instructed a small goblin to inform Azog that he'd captured Thorin Oakenshield. Then, as the torture devices were wheeled in, he sang merrily of all the horrific injuries the dwarves, and possibly Talaitha, would soon suffer.

But the song was interrupted by the sound of metal clattering to the floor. The goblins shrank away in fear.

"I know that sword," cried the goblin king. "The Biter. The blade that sliced a thousand necks. Slash them! Beat them!"

And beat them they did. At least four goblins began whipping Thorin, who tried to fight back but was inevitably wrestled to the ground. Talaitha leapt onto one of the larger goblins' backs and managed to pull him off Thorin, before two goblins jerked her away so roughly that she was surprised her shoulder didn't dislocate.

"Kill them! Kill them all!" By now, the goblin king was a frightening combination of furious and frantic. "Cut off his head!"

Talaitha watched helplessly as a goblin readied to plunge a dagger into Thorin's neck. She struggled against her captors, but they held her in a bruising grip. Suddenly, along with the dwarves and goblins, she was hurled forward by a blinding flash of white light, wincing as the air was knocked from her lungs. In her daze, she felt a large hand wrap around hers; she had landed next to Thorin. For a moment, he just held her hand, allowing them both to regain their senses.

When Talaitha had recovered, she raised her head and saw the outline of a pointed hat and staff. Gandalf's bright light. Of course. He could have been a tad gentler, though.

"Take up arms. Fight. Fight!" cried the wizard.

Beside her, Thorin growled and kicked at the nearest goblin, before standing and pulling Talaitha to her feet. "Can you fight?"

As answer, Talaitha spun into a high kick that shattered the nose of a goblin running towards her. Satisfied, Thorin dealt with his own goblins, but his attention periodically shifted to his nephews and the fairy to ensure they remained unharmed.

When Bifur tossed Talaitha her weapons, she barely managed to catch them, unlike the dwarves, who caught theirs with a practiced ease. No matter, she now had Ezüstlélek, which she twirled gracefully before slicing off a goblin's arm. She felt a pang of nausea and guilt for harming a living being, but then she remembered that the goblins had been gleefully preparing to torture and kill the dwarves. These foul creatures didn't deserve a healer's mercy.

Out of the corner of her eye, Talaitha saw the goblin king swing his mace at Thorin, but the dwarf king blocked his advance with such force that the goblin fell backwards and off the platform. She couldn't help but marvel at the dwarf's strength.

"Follow me!" Gandalf led them across the rickety bridges. Talaitha tried to ignore how they creaked and swung under their feet as they ran, or else she'd have been frozen by fear. Thorin's grip on her wrist helped.

But when goblins leapt down in front of them, Thorin let go. He twirled, gutting three goblins simultaneously, while Talaitha stabbed a fourth. They ran, almost side-by-side, cutting down any goblins that stood in their path, though Thorin certainly dispatched more than she did. It was remarkable, really, how savage yet graceful his movements were.

The Company piled onto a swinging bridge, and Talaitha bit back a shriek as Thorin wrapped an arm around her waist and jumped to a stationary platform. Talaitha groaned when they continued running, but at least their way was made a bit clearer when Gandalf broke off an overhanging rock that rolled over the approaching goblins.

Just when it appeared the Company had reached safety, the goblin king burst through the bridge in front of them, and his minions surrounded them.

"You thought you could escape _me_?" The massive goblin was well and truly angry as he swiped at Gandalf with his mace. "What are you going to do now, Wizard?"

As reply, Gandalf poked the goblin king in the eye with his staff, then sliced his bulging stomach. The goblin king clutched at his wound and said, "That'll do it," before Gandalf cut his throat.

The creature toppled forward, causing the bridge to break and fall, taking the dwarves along with it. Talaitha screamed as they plummeted and crashed into rocky outcroppings. Miraculously, their descent was slowed enough to avoid injury when they squeezed through the narrow exit of the cavern. It was only when they'd come to a stop that Talaitha noticed Thorin's arm around her waist. He pushed her off the ruined bridge to slide down to the ground, just as the goblin king landed on top of the dwarves.

She cringed, silently thanking the dwarf king for saving her from being crushed by the giant goblin, even if he didn't know that's what he was doing at the time. Slowly, the dwarves crawled out from the debris, but their ordeal wasn't over. Kili's shout drew their attention to the hoards of goblins scampering toward them.

"Only one thing will save us," said Gandalf. "Daylight."

They ran out of the cave and emerged onto a downwardly sloping scrub landscape that was peppered with trees and warmed by glorious sunshine. When they finally stopped, Gandalf counted the members of the Company and made a discovery that sent a shock of fear through Talaitha. Bilbo was missing.

"Where is our hobbit?!" shouted Gandalf.

Nori was the only one who seemed to know what had happened to Bilbo. "I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us."

"What happened exactly?" asked Gandalf. "Tell me!"

Thorin strode forward. "I'll tell you what happened. Master Baggins saw his chance, and he took it. He has thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out his door. We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is _long_ gone."

With a glare, Talaitha moved in front of Thorin, ready to defend Bilbo. She didn't get very far, though, for the subject of their discussion appeared from behind a tree. "No, he isn't."

"I knew you wouldn't abandon us!" cried Talaitha, pulling the hobbit into a fierce hug.

Kili grinned. "Bilbo, we'd given you up."

"How on Earth did you get past the goblins?" asked Fili.

Bilbo didn't reply, but Talaitha noticed he was acting strangely as he chuckled nervously and put something gold inside the pocket of his waistcoat.

Gandalf, too, had noticed the hobbit's suspicious behavior and attempted to draw attention away from it. "Well, what does it matter? He is back."

"It matters," said Thorin. "I want to know. Why _did_ you come back?"

"I know you doubt me. I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books, my armchair, my garden. See, that's where I belong, that's home. And that's why I came back, because you don't have one-a home. It was taken from you, but I will help you take it back if I can."

Bilbo's speech was simple, yet his sincerity was obvious even to Thorin, who bowed his head in either an admission of guilt or as an apology for his previous accusation, or perhaps both. Talaitha smiled, despite the tears that welled up in her eyes; she'd never been more proud of Bilbo than in this moment. In a surge of affection, she took his hand and squeezed it in gratitude for returning.

Suddenly, wargs' howls sounded above them. Talaitha's blood ran cold with the realization that perhaps the goblin king had spoken the truth about Azog, for how else would the orcs have found them if not by the message?

"Out of the frying pan," Thorin deadpanned.

"And into the fire," Gandalf finished. "Run!"

And run they did, despite the stitch in Talaitha's side. The Company knew it was to no avail, yet they forged on, even as the first of the warg scouts caught up with them. Bilbo was separated from Talaitha by a warg, but before she could come to his aid, his sword was embedded in its forehead.

She didn't have time to congratulate him, for a warg leapt at her. She ducked and rolled, then loosed two arrows simultaneously into the beast's neck to sever its windpipe. When she looked back at Bilbo, he was still standing against the tree, staring in shock at the dead warg at his feet.

"Up into the trees, all of you!" shouted Gandalf, breaking the hobbit's stupor.

Talaitha tried to go back for Bilbo, who was struggling to pull his sword from the warg, but she felt large hands on her waist lift her into the nearest tree. Thorin followed.

"I have to help Bilbo!" Talaitha's voice was tinged with panic as the orc pack appeared through the trees.

Thorin wrapped an arm around her waist to stop her from jumping to the ground. "I will not see you harmed." His tone was firm yet soft.

Before she could protest, Bilbo was climbing into the neighboring tree, just as the rest of the warg scouts reached them. Thorin's fingers gripped her side painfully when he saw the leader of the orcs.

"Azog," he breathed in disbelief.

The Pale Orc was the biggest Talaitha had ever seen, and, though his left forearm was replaced by a metal hook, he lacked the disfigured features of his kin. In a way, that made him all the more frightening, for Talaitha could almost imagine him as the elf his race once was, albeit twisted and cruel.

Azog spoke in Orcish; the only words Talaitha understood were "Thorin" and "Thráin," but she didn't think he was offering the dwarf a cordial greeting. Thorin's shocked expression quickly morphed into one of fear, then of such hatred that Talaitha flinched away from him. His arm fell from her waist, but he didn't seem to notice.

It was only when wargs shook the tree in which she and Thorin were perched that he snapped out of his daze. Talaitha gasped and clung to the trunk as she was nearly dislodged. Thorin's arm went around her waist again, and she suddenly felt safer, especially when he hugged her to his chest. She shut her eyes, trying to ignore the sounds of snapping teeth, threatening growls, and creaking wood and focused instead on the soft fabric of Thorin's tunic beneath her fingers. Had their embrace been under different circumstances, she might have noticed how broad his chest was or how his heartbeat quickened as she tightened her hold on him. But at the moment, it was all she could do keep from panicking.

Thorin didn't bother with reassuring words; their situation seemed too dire for empty promises, particularly when the wargs managed to uproot their tree, which began to fall. Thorin jumped with Talaitha onto the only tree that was still standing; unfortunately, it happened to be the one on the edge of the cliff. It was only a matter of time before the wargs brought down that tree, too.

But Gandalf had a solution. He set a pinecone on fire and threw it at the nearest wargs. When he saw them recoil, he lit more and gave them to the Company. Quickly, the wargs retreated, and Talaitha would have smiled at Azog's shout of rage had their tree not suddenly keeled over the edge of the cliff. Talaitha yelped and scrambled for a better hold on her branch, thankful once again for Thorin's strong grip on her waist.

Dori and Ori, however, weren't so lucky. She watched in horror as they fell and were only saved when Gandalf lowered his staff for Dori to catch. Neither the dwarf nor the wizard could hold on forever, though.

Talaitha felt Thorin shift above her, felt his arm leave her waist. He was standing on the trunk of the tree, Orcrist unsheathed, with what she was sure was a fiercely resolute expression. She sat up and grabbed his elbow, but he shook her off and strode toward Azog, then broke into a run.

Azog's white warg leapt off its boulder and bowled Thorin to the ground, but he was quickly on his feet again, just to be struck down by Azog's mace. Before the dwarf could rise, the white warg clamped its jaws around his torso and tossed him onto a flat rock. Talaitha screamed and dug her nails into the tree trunk so hard that bark jammed under them, but she didn't feel the sting. All she felt was the cold dread in her stomach. All she heard were Thorin's yells of pain. And all she saw was his dazed form lying atop the rock, at the mercy of Azog's second-in-command, who'd been ordered to kill him.

Then she saw a small body leap and shove aside the orc. Bilbo had stabbed the second-in-command and was now standing between Thorin and the orc pack, slashing threateningly with his blade. That was all the motivation Talaitha needed. With as ferocious a battle cry as she could muster, she joined the dwarves as they ran to aid both Thorin and Bilbo. She sliced the neck of a warg, while Fili stabbed the orc that tumbled from its back.

Out of the corner of her eye, Talaitha saw Bilbo kill an orc, but when she looked back at him, he was on the ground, with the white warg advancing upon him. She made her way to Bilbo as quickly as she could and stood between him and Azog.

"Don't you touch him," she hissed, brandishing Ezüstlélek.

Azog laughed and spurred his warg forward, but neither beast nor fairy got a chance to strike, for giant eagles swooped down from the night sky, plucking up wargs and dropping them over the edge.

Talaitha watched as an eagle grasped Thorin's inert form and flew off. Then she was picked up and dropped onto the back of another eagle. The only reason she didn't scream was because by the time her brain processed she was falling, she'd already landed safely on her eagle. Of course, that didn't mean Talaitha was completely calm either; in fact, when she chanced a glance at the tiny, blurred landscape below her, she yelped in fear and fisted her hands into the giant bird's feathers.

She did not look down again.

#

Sometime during the flight, Talaitha had fallen asleep, despite her anxiety about Thorin and her discomfort at being so high up. And she would have slept more had her eagle not woken her with a loud squawk. She squinted against the early morning sunlight until her eyes adjusted to it.

The instant she saw the bear-shaped Carrock, she knew where they were, even though she had never traveled there before. She'd told children the tales of the skin-changers many times; now, it seemed, she would finally meet one of the people partly descended from her own kin.

Another eagle swooped beside hers and was the first to deposit a dwarf on the Carrock. It was Thorin, and he still had not regained consciousness. Talaitha's eagle seemed to sense her unease, for it hurried to the rock and bent its head low enough for her to slide off. Gandalf arrived shortly after, then Bilbo, but she barely noticed.

Talaitha rushed to the dwarf king, laying one hand on his forehead and the other on his chest, and closed her eyes to assess the extent of his injuries. He had three broken ribs, deep puncture wounds from the warg's teeth, and countless cuts and bruises, but thankfully no internal bleeding. His body would mend, with a little help.

She sent Thorin a powerful wave of energy-bright yellow, which only she could see-and waited. By then, the rest of the dwarves had gathered around their king and the healer, watching with curious expressions what to them seemed like magic. Seconds later, Thorin's pale blue eyes fluttered open.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Talaitha said cheerfully, though she silently sighed in relief.

Thorin's gaze met hers, and she saw his confusion. "You're still injured, but you have enough strength to last you until your wounds are tended."

Talaitha knew he still didn't fully comprehend the source of the surplus energy, but he understood enough that he gave the hand on his chest a brief squeeze in thanks. She moved aside to allow Gandalf near.

"The halfling," whispered Thorin.

Gandalf smiled. "It's all right. Bilbo is here. He's quite safe."

Talaitha saw Bilbo's body sag in relief when Thorin, aided by Kili and Dwalin, struggled to his feet. She also saw the dwarf's grimace, no doubt caused by the pain of his broken ribs. He roughly shook off the help and regarded the hobbit.

"You. What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed," Thorin said harshly. He slowly advanced on the hobbit. "Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild? That you had no place amongst us?"

Talaitha watched warily, ready to intervene should Thorin's temper run away with him. But his anger softened into gratitude, and he embraced Bilbo. "I have never been so wrong in all my life."

Blinking back tears, Talaitha's heart warmed when Bilbo's shocked expression morphed into a smile. The hobbit had finally earned Thorin's friendship and respect, albeit far later than she would have liked. Yet she felt a surge of affection toward the dwarf king when he apologized to Bilbo for doubting him.

"No, I would have doubted me, too," said the hobbit. "I'm not a hero, or a warrior, or even a burglar." He looked at Gandalf, who smiled, then at Talaitha, who ran forward to hug him.

"You _are_ a hero, Bilbo Baggins," she whispered, so only he could hear. "To Thorin, to Fili and Kili. And to me."

Though Bilbo didn't know it, those last three words were the first admission of her feelings for the dwarf king. No longer could she deny that she cared for Thorin, not after watching the warg toss him aside like a ragdoll.

She was pulled from her thoughts as the eagles circled around the Carrock a final time before flying off. When Thorin saw the mountain in the distance, his smile was replaced by an expression of awe.

Bilbo, too, had noticed the peak. "Is that what I think it is?"

The Company followed Thorin to the edge of the Carrock, and Gandalf confirmed their hopes. "Erebor, the Lonely Mountain. The last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle-earth."

"Our home." Thorin's tone was soft and proud.

A small bird flew toward Erebor, chirping merrily. "A raven. The birds are returning to the mountain."

"That, my dear Óin, is a thrush," Gandalf corrected.

"But we'll take it as a sign. A good omen." Thorin smiled at Bilbo.

"You're right," said Bilbo. "I do believe the worst is behind us."

He sounded so optimistic that Talaitha decided not to remind him that he would be facing a dragon when the Company reached Erebor. Instead, she moved closer to Thorin, whose hand brushed hers ever so slightly but just enough so she knew it was no accident.

Thorin was alive. Bilbo was in good spirits. The Company was safe. And their destination was within their sight. In that moment, Talaitha felt like she was truly on top of the world.


	12. Chapter 12: Baths and Talking Horses

Boy, I'm slipping, aren't I? I have a good reason, though. Or rather, multiple good reasons. First, it's the end of the semester, so I've had papers to write and exams to grade. Second, I think my sleep-deprivation's finally caught up with me, because I've been passing out as soon as I get home. Third, although my laptop is thankfully fixed, now my car's screwed up. :/ When I was walking back to my car after picking up my computer from the repair shop, I noticed my right tail light was broken, and the bumper was warped and shifted. Someone had hit my car, probably backed into it while leaving the parking lot, which was rather small. Regardless, I was pissed (still am), once I'd gotten over my initial shock. So now _that's_ in the repair shop, and I'm crossing my fingers it's finished before next Thursday, 'cause that's when I leave for Hungary.

Admittedly, with all the chaos of the past week, my writing's taken a backseat, but I come bearing a new chapter! And your follows, favorites, and reviews have been such a boon in these crappy times. :)

LianaDare8: Or maybe our dear little fairy's gonna get bolder with Thorin. XD

Kat7CA: Thank you! And I think you'll approve of Fili, Kili, and Thorin's fate.

Guest: I wish I knew who you were, so I could properly say thank you! A personal healing session? I think you'll like this chapter then, even if Beorn's still a no-show. ;)

JR Cloud: You're absolutely right, and I edited chapter 11 accordingly. :) And thank you!

KillerKadoogan: So basically how I grinned when I read your (and everyone else's) review then. XD Seriously though, the fact that you'll be looking for Laitha in _Desolation of Smaug_ is a huge compliment. :D

Theta-McBride: Thank you! :)

MugglebornPrincesa: (I keep wanting to add an extra 's' to your name) I'm going to continue with the book as a guide. Goodness knows if I waited till _Desolation, _I'd completely lose my flow. And that seems a bit mean, lol.

kaia: Thank you!

Abyss Prime: Thanks. :)

loveorpain: Thank you!

xxOMGgalxx: Thank you bunches! :)

Just4Me: *nods* Their bits were such fun to write. :)

**Note:** "Tarsoly" is Talaitha's healer's pack, in case you forgot from the beginning chapters.

In this chapter are...

1. Warm, fuzzy feelings

2. Dirty dwarves

3. Talking horses

4. Giant bees

5. A continuation of the Necromancer plot, since it's already been included earlier in this story. Plus, I believe it's also in _The Lord of the Rings_ appendices to explain Gandalf's absence from the dwarves' quest.

6. Oh yeah, and baths all around

I hope that the cute in the first part will make up for my tardiness. If not...*hides*

Enjoy!

[Insert usual disclaimer here]

* * *

**Chapter 12: Baths and Talking Horses**

The feeling of euphoria quickly faded when the Company realized that to reach Erebor, they first had to descend the Carrock, and although someone had cut stairs into the stone, they were taller than the dwarves. Jumping from step-to-step was quickly deemed too dangerous, for the height and risk of losing one's balance were great. So it was decided that they would lower each other down, and though the going was slow, they reached the bottom without mishap.

At the foot of the stairs was a cave, beyond which flowed the Anduin River with huge, flat stones that served as a bridge. The Company gathered in the cave to discuss what was to be done. They'd lost their food, clothes, and supplies during their run-in with the goblins, and they were slightly off-course as well. And to make matters worse, Gandalf informed them he'd be leaving soon.

"I always meant to see you safely over the mountains and have done so, though there were a few unforeseen hiccups along the way."

Thorin glared. "We might not have suffered those _hiccups_ if you hadn't waylaid us in Rivendell."

"And if I hadn't, you'd still be none the wiser about how to enter Erebor." There was an impatient edge to the wizard's normally cheerful tone.

Talaitha could see a potential argument brewing and stepped in to prevent it. "You engineered this quest, Szürkevándorló."

The wizard smiled, aware she'd used his Szila name to ease the sting of her implication that he was now abandoning them.

"I do not wish to leave you all, but I have pressing business to attend to elsewhere." To his credit, he did sound regretful.

"But you've only just rejoined us," said Bilbo.

Gandalf gave the hobbit an apologetic look but said nothing.

"What could be more important than stopping a dragon?" Talaitha asked.

Thorin watched the wizard with cold but curious eyes.

"Radagast the Brown discovered disturbing signs that a Necromancer has taken up residence in Dol Guldur. Orcs and trolls are venturing into territories they previously avoided." Gandalf's mouth was set in a thoughtful frown, and his eyes held something akin to fear. "A darkness is gathering once more, and I must ascertain its source."

"Do you think...?" Talaitha couldn't finish her question, for it was too terrible to comprehend.

Bilbo and most of the dwarves looked confused, but Thorin's expression was grim; he'd understood. "If your assumption is correct, Smaug must be destroyed before the Necromancer learns of his existence."

Gandalf nodded. "Which is why it is imperative that I acquire as much knowledge as I can."

"What is going on?" asked Glóin, voicing the question on each of the dwarves' minds.

It was Talaitha who answered, for she'd just realized the significance of Thorin's previous statement. "The Necromancer could use the dragon to wreak havoc upon Middle-earth."

The dwarves looked shocked. Poor Bilbo was aghast. "I only signed up for a dragon," he feebly protested.

And that was enough to dispel the gloom that had settled over the Company. Even Thorin smiled, which was quite the departure from his initial disdain toward the hobbit. The tension was further chased away by Gandalf's next words.

"Though I will leave you, it will not be for another day or two, not until you are back on the path with supplies."

"And where will we get these supplies?" asked Dwalin. "I have not heard of many who live in these parts."

Gandalf's eyes twinkled mischievously. "You are quite right, my dear dwarf," he said. "But there is _somebody _I know of who lives nearby, and that somebody made the Carrock's steps. We just have to find him."

Talaitha knew of whom Gandalf spoke, but she decided to let him divulge the identity in his own time; the wizard loved a bit of mystery, after all. Besides, she had more pressing matters on her mind.

"Well, I don't know about _you_ lot, but I'm going to take advantage of the river and bathe."

Thorin's head snapped up, drawing a few curious glances from the dwarves. He tried to play off his reaction as impatience. "We do not have time for such luxuries."

"I don't see you rushing across the ford," said Talaitha. She raised her eyebrows, as though she knew Thorin was lying. "I stink of goblin, so I'm _going_ to have my bath."

Before Thorin could reply, Talaitha had strode out of the cave toward the river. She found a secluded spot behind a large boulder, stripped, and waded into the clear, cool water. Her soaps were lost along with her spare clothes, but she managed to scrub away the sweat and grime, and she could mask any lingering smells with the lilac oil in her medicine pack.

As she was washing her blouse, she heard conversation and splashing on the other side of the boulder. Talaitha smirked. It seemed the dwarves had followed her lead. She laid her blouse on a rock to dry, and as she smoothed a bit of lilac oil through her hair, she wondered if Thorin had joined the dwarves.

He had. And he was having a difficult time of it. His mind kept wandering to Talaitha, kept reminding him that she was as naked as he and quite nearby. All he had to do was swim around the rock, and she could be his.

Thorin suppressed a groan, thankful for the cool water. He was in a river with fourteen men, two of whom were his nephews; this was not the time for his lust to manifest itself. But his efforts were in vain, for when he heard Talaitha's voice, his fantasies returned.

"Alright, men. Cover anything you don't want a woman to see."

She waited a moment before rounding the boulder-clothed, to Thorin's disappointment and relief. Despite being submerged up to his neck, a blush crept into Bilbo's cheeks when Talaitha stopped at the river's edge. Kili, however, was less bashful.

"Who said we don't want you to see?"

Had Thorin been nearer, he would have smacked his nephew upside the head. And had Talaitha been a proper lady, she would have been scandalized, but she smirked instead.

"Let me amend my sentence. Cover anything _I_ don't want to see."

Bofur placed a hand to his chest. "You wound us, lass."

"You'll live," she quipped. Then her attention shifted to Thorin. "Put on your breeches and come with me."

When Talaitha was on the other side of the boulder again, Thorin pulled on his pants amid a chorus of suggestive comments and laughter. Even Gandalf joined in with a chuckle as he sat on a rock with his pipe. Thorin glowered at the men before following Talaitha.

"Sit." She pointed to a log on the riverbank.

He obeyed, much to his surprise, for he wasn't usually so acquiescent. Equally surprising was the realization that he _wanted_ to please Talaitha; that was why he hadn't stopped her from bathing and why he'd consented to being ordered around by her. He certainly wouldn't tolerate it from anyone else, except perhaps the wizard.

"If you don't stop glaring, I'll let your wounds fester," said Talaitha as she rummaged through her _tarsoly_.

Thorin crossed his arms, careful to avoid the cuts. "Óin could have tended to my injuries."

"He could have," she agreed, pouring a few drops of a sweet, slightly citrus-scented liquid onto a cloth. "But I am finished bathing. He isn't."

Talaitha pulled his arms away from his chest and surveyed his injuries. Now that the cuts and puncture wounds were clean, they looked better, but a few of the deeper ones showed signs of inflammation. And a large, dark bruise covered the right side of his torso from his ribs to his hip, caused when the white warg threw Thorin onto the rock.

While Talaitha dabbed his lacerations with the cloth, Thorin tried to ignore the pale skin that beckoned him, skin that would normally be covered by her blouse. But as it was, her breasts were at eyelevel, and the leather corset offered him a peek of her cleavage. Harder to ignore was how gentle her hands were on his chest, how her fingers trailed along his shoulders as she brushed his damp hair aside. He was almost glad for the sting of the sweet-smelling liquid.

"What is that?"

"It's just an infusion of marjoram," Talaitha said. "It'll clean your wounds from the inside."

They were silent for a moment as Thorin mulled over how to ask his next question. In the end, he decided to be direct.

"What happened on the Carrock?"

"You were unconscious. I woke you."

Thorin took her hands, forcing her to look at him. "How?"

Talaitha hesitated before replying. "One of a szelemér healer's gifts is the ability to share energy. It's nothing remarkable, really." She pulled her hands free and resumed her work.

"Perhaps to you it isn't." Thorin touched her arm, though he longed to show her his gratitude more intimately.

Talaitha smiled. "What did it feel like?"

"It felt warm," he said slowly. "Like a ray of sunshine inside my chest."

"That's how most of my patients describe it." She set aside the marjoram and dipped the cloth into a light green paste. "Although a few of them likened it to the feeling of alcohol settling in their stomach." Her peridot-hued eyes twinkled in amusement.

When she spread the balm onto one of Thorin's swollen puncture wounds, he flinched away from her, then winced when his ribs throbbed in protest. "It's cold."

"That's the aloe vera. It will soothe the inflammation."

"And the smell?"

Talaitha laughed. "Witch hazel. Not the most pleasant scent, I admit, but it, too, has soothing properties." She sniffed the paste. "And that peppery undertone is sage, which will help your wounds heal."

By the time she was finished, Thorin's skin tingled pleasantly, but his ribs ached sharply every time he moved or breathed too deeply. Talaitha seemed to sense his discomfort.

"Eat these." She handed him two sweet violets. "They'll numb the pain from your broken ribs."

Thorin obeyed, but he grimaced. Whoever named sweet violets had clearly never tasted them. "No honey this time?"

"Unfortunately not. It was in my bag, and well..." She broke off to put away her remaining healing supplies, the ones that _did_ survive the Company's encounter with the goblins.

When Talaitha turned back to Thorin, she allowed herself to really look at him. Despite his slightly battered appearance, she was struck by how handsome he was, how broad and well-muscled his torso was. Crystal-blue eyes watched her curiously as she touched one of the braids at his temple and examined the silver bead at the end.

"Braids are symbolic among my people," said Thorin. "Mine represent my status as Durin's heir, as do Fili's."

Talaitha met his gaze as her hand traveled from his braid to his cheek. "Is it true that braiding another's hair is an act of intimacy?" Her voice was soft but tinged with something Thorin couldn't quite place. Desire, perhaps?

"Aye," he replied and tugged gently on one of her copper curls. "Is it not the same among your people?"

Talaitha shook her head. "But when a boy pulls a girl's hair, it is seen as a gesture of affection."

"I am no boy," Thorin grumbled but didn't deny her words.

Talaitha smiled fondly at the dwarf, for he'd sounded like a petulant child. She ran a finger over a bruise on his left cheekbone where Azog's mace hit it, then hesitantly placed a soft kiss upon it. Thorin's hands snaked around her hips and pulled Talaitha onto his knees. She nearly giggled when she saw he was still chewing the flowers.

"Though I do not have honey, perhaps I can still help."

Her gaze flicked between his eyes and lips as she leaned closer to him. That was all the invitation Thorin needed. Their lips met in a chaste kiss that deepened when neither party retreated. He barely tasted the bitterness of the flowers, and even his injuries hurt less.

"Much sweeter than honey," Thorin said huskily.

Talaitha blushed, and he smiled at the sight before him. With the sun shining down upon them, Talaitha's hair glowed like molten copper, and a light smattering of freckles dusted her cheeks and nose.

"Beautiful," he whispered. And so unlike dwarf women. Talaitha was softer and more delicate, yet she possessed spirit and an independent streak he found irresistible.

She stroked his cheek, then rested her head against his shoulder, sighing softly in contentment. A light breeze blew, carrying a familiar scent that Thorin had become fond of.

"Lilacs."

"Yes, it's the oil in my hair," Talaitha said. "I always carry a phial with me, for it reminds me of home."

"My coat smelled of lilac after you returned it."

Talaitha smirked. "How unfortunate! It is far too delicate a scent for such a mighty dwarf." She used her finger to wipe away a bit of excess balm from his chest. "Now witch hazel..._that_ suits you."

"Watch it, fairy," he growled, tickling the exposed skin between her corset and breeches.

Thorin's heart warmed as she giggled and tried to squirm away from his dancing fingers, but he held her in place. He savored their little interlude for as long as he dared, then gently pulled Talaitha to her feet as he stood.

"We must move on."

And just like that, Thorin-the-leader had returned.

#

The flat stones across the Anduin were clearly made by the same giant of a man who'd carved the Carrock's steps, for the Company leapt from stone to stone to cross the ford. Bilbo, who was the smallest, sometimes had to be tossed by Dwalin, and even Talaitha struggled a few times, though she'd declined the dwarves' offers of help.

Beyond the river, was a forest of grass that was nearly as tall as they were-rather, nearly as tall as Bilbo, Talaitha, and the dwarves. Gandalf wasn't bothered by the grass, which only reached to his waist, but the others were constantly swatted in the neck as it moved in the breeze. By the time they'd come out of the sea of grass, they were itchy and irritated.

Talaitha searched through her _tarsoly_, but she was low on the aloe vera and witch hazel paste that she'd used on Thorin's wounds. It was more prudent to save it for serious injuries. The grass gave way to a field of clover, and Talaitha grinned when she saw the sheer variety of flowers. There was purple clover, red clover, white clover, orange clover; Talaitha yearned to collect some of each.

"When I introduce you to this somebody, you must all be very polite." Gandalf glanced at Thorin. "He is easily angered and has an appalling temper. Or so I've heard."

Talaitha's expression was neutral, but her tone was playful as she murmured to Thorin, "A kindred spirit then, eh?"

The dwarf king glowered but didn't move away from the fairy. Instead, he took her hand and gave it a warning squeeze, which made Talaitha smirk. When Bofur looked at them, Thorin dropped her hand.

"Will you finally tell us _who_ you're taking us to?" asked Thorin, partly out of curiosity but mostly to draw attention away from his and Talaitha's interactions.

"His name is Beorn, and he is-"

"A skin-changer!" Talaitha exclaimed excitedly.

Bilbo gaped. "One of the people who can take on the forms of animals?"

"That's the kind," Gandalf replied, smiling. "Sometimes he's a black bear, and other times he's a man, but whichever form he occupies, he's quite large."

Talaitha sounded wistful. "And he has horses that he talks to. I would love to have a conversation with Szélvész."

"She seems to understand human speech well enough," Thorin said gruffly, remembering all the times he'd seen the mare's eyes reflect an uncanny intelligence when Talaitha spoke to her.

She nodded. "Yes, she's rather perceptive, but according to legend, the skin-changers and animals understand each other as plainly as you and I understand each other."

Talaitha didn't mention that the reason skin-changers could speak to animals was because of a fairy named Kund Földes, whose gift included an affinity for animals and who was the father of the shape-shifting race.

Suddenly, the Company heard a loud buzzing. "We are at the edge of his bee pastures, so it shouldn't be long now," said Gandalf.

Bilbo inched closer to the wizard when a bee as large as his hand flew past him. Getting stung by one of those would be akin to being stabbed by a small knife, but the bees seemed docile and uninterested in the Company. They flitted among the clovers, collecting nectar that they'd later turn into honey. Perhaps Beorn would be willing to part with a jar or two.

It was evening when they reached a tall hedge that was so densely packed with thorns that they couldn't see through it. Talaitha wondered how they'd get past it.

"Wait here. When you hear my signal, walk along the hedge in pairs, five minutes apart, until you reach a wooden gate," said Gandalf, clapping a hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "Come, Bilbo!"

Bilbo glanced back at Talaitha, who gave him an encouraging smile. Despite Gandalf's warning about Beorn's temper, she was certain he wouldn't harm the hobbit. Thorin, Dwalin, and Glóin, on the other hand, were another matter.

Kili poked Talaitha's arm. "You seem awfully happy to be meeting this skin-changer."

Fili joined his brother. "You know something we don't."

"Of course I'm excited to be meeting Beorn. Even the szelemér have legends about his kind."

Thorin watched her closely, but he didn't detect a lie. And even if he had, what good would it serve? If she was hiding information, he knew it was nothing too important, for neither she nor the wizard would let the Company meet Beorn if he was truly dangerous.

"How does someone even turn into an animal?" Bofur wondered.

Kili replied with his usual cheek. "You could ask Beorn to show you."

Bifur shook his head vehemently and muttered something in Khuzdul. Talaitha only understood "no," "axe," and "kill."

"I don't fancy meeting a bear with a human mind either," said Nori.

Their banter was interrupted when they heard a loud, shrill whistle. Gandalf's signal. Thorin nodded at Talaitha, and together they walked along the hedge until they reached the gate. When they'd passed through it, Talaitha barely suppressed a gleeful squeal, though she did grab Thorin's arm in her excitement.

"Beorn's talking horses!"

Sure enough, a small herd of sleek horses trotted up to them, regarding them with intelligent eyes. A dapple-gray mare nuzzled Talaitha's shoulder, while a black stallion whinnied something at Thorin that sounded suspiciously like "welcome, dwarf king."

Talaitha's grin grew even wider, much to Thorin's amazement, when a red chestnut stallion nudged her hand to be petted. The fairy happily obliged, until a huge, white stallion snorted impatiently and beckoned Thorin and Talaitha toward a long, wooden house.

Talaitha was sad to see the horses gallop off, but a new exhilaration filled her at who was waiting beyond the doors.

Unsurprisingly, Thorin didn't share her excitement.


	13. Chapter 13: Stories by Moonlight

I worked overtime, as it were, to write this chapter before I leave for Hungary today (Thursday). I _will_ continue this story while over there, and new chapters will still be posted each week. There's a chance that I might be late once or twice, as I'm also traveling to Germany, England, and Poland, but I'll let you know if that's the case. And I'll try to write chapters ahead.

Update on my car: More crap news. It won't be finished before I leave, so my saint-of-a-mother will pick it up. Bless her. It's been a tiring week, but your response for the story have made it infinitely better. *hugs*

MoonCrown: Jealousy? Where? I thought that was in the stone giant chapter, lol.

Abyss Prime: Thank you. :)

3insteinComplex: I reacted the same way when I read your review! More moves commence. XD

MugglebornPrincesa: I think I was having a Richard Armitage fangirl moment right before I wrote that part, haha.

Just4Me: I probably enjoyed writing the bath scene too much...

loveorpain: "Awww horse" indeed. :) I will give horses personalities every chance I get.

Itaneth: You're new! I do try not to rush through with the story, which was difficult when I was following the film. It was a tedious process to inject a bit of character thoughts and interactions. It's a bit easier now that I'm using the book as a guide. And I strove to keep Talarin (Thorin+Talaitha) realistic, so I'm happy to hear I've succeeded. Thank you for your kind words! :D

kaia: Thank you! :)

LianaDare8: More romantic feels are on the way. XD

Theta-McBride: Thank you! :)

KillerKadoogan: So basically you smiled how I did when I read your review. :) I loooved writing playful Thorin; I like to think his nephews occasionally brought that out, too, when they were young. Lol, Kili-out of all the characters (Thorin included), he's my absolute favorite to write. I get to indulge in a bit of crack humor. XD As for the bath, well it _did_ happen in the book...I just embellished a bit. ;) Seriously, thank you so much for this review. *extra hugs*

Kat7CA: Aw, nothing bad will happen to them...yet. Nah, they'll be safe for a while. :)

**In this chapter:**

1. Beorn! He's a blast to write.

2. A Hungarian folk song that I'm passing off as szelemér. I translated it into English, but if you want to hear the original, check out the "pronunciations" section of my profile (#14) for the link.

3. The story Talaitha tells Thorin is actually a _very_ condensed version of one of my original short stories called _Nagtael the Watchman_.

4. I split Beorn's house into two chapters because this was already getting too long.

Enjoy and the next time you hear from me, I'll be in Budapest!

**Disclaimer**: I only own Talaitha and the story she tells. The song belongs to the Csángó people, and the modern version, to Holdviola. But translation is mine, I guess?

* * *

**Chapter 13: Stories by Moonlight**

When Talaitha and Thorin entered the house, they were met with a wide hall, in the middle of which burned a low fire. The furniture was large, too large for the dwarves, and made entirely of wood. There were few decorations, save for the intricate carvings in the furniture, and Talaitha saw no metallic objects.

"Look," Thorin murmured.

Talaitha grinned when she followed the dwarf's gaze. Outside in the courtyard, was a garden full of flowers and healing herbs, but what delighted her most was that some of the plants were from Nemere.

"There are many I do not recognize," said Thorin.

Talaitha's reply was cut off when a loud, booming voice greeted them. "So the wizard speaks the truth after all! One of the szelemér has indeed stepped foot inside my home."

The black-haired man was tall and broad and was walking toward them with a powerful gait. Talaitha thought she saw a bit of bear in him. She felt Thorin tense beside her, saw his hand instinctively touch Orcrist's hilt. If Beorn saw the movement, too, their welcome would not be pleasant.

She stepped in front of the dwarf and smiled. "I am Talaitha Borvirág."

"The wandering healer!" Beorn exclaimed with a hearty chuckle. "Radagast spoke of you, but I thought his brain had finally become addled from his mushrooms."

Talaitha giggled. "I have not seen him in years, and before then, I'd only met him a few times while traveling through the Green Wood."

"He is unchanged," said Gandalf, appearing from behind a pillar with Bilbo.

"I now know who _you_ are, fairy, but who is the dwarf hiding behind you?" asked Beorn, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. "And very poorly, I might add."

Thorin stepped around Talaitha, managing to keep his voice polite. "Thorin, son of Thráin."

"The dwarf king. Gandalf mentioned he was traveling with you." Beorn motioned for them to follow. "Come! The wizard was just regaling me with a tale of goblins and orcs, and I do enjoy a good story, even if I am dubious of its truth."

Thorin's expression darkened, but Beorn had turned away already. Gandalf gave him a pointed look, to which the dwarf reluctantly nodded. He would tolerate Beorn for the sake of the Company and quest. And for Talaitha, who seemed to like the skin-changer.

"I have been waiting to hear the full account, for the wizard apparently missed most of the fun!" said Beorn. "So tell me, Thorin, son of Thráin, how you came to be ambushed by goblins."

"While crossing the Misty Mountains during a storm, we ended up in the middle of a battle between stone giants. I and several of my companions sought refuge in a cave we believed to be unoccupied."

Beorn raised a thick, quizzical brow. "Do you call two several?"

"Well, no... As a matter of fact, there were more than two." Thorin sounded uncomfortable, almost nervous.

Beorn looked around his house, as if he thought the dwarves were so small that he'd overlooked them. "Where are they? Have they all been killed or eaten? Or did they perhaps have their fill of stone giants and goblins and go home?"

Gandalf saved Thorin from a reply. "They are here but apparently didn't come when I whistled. You see, I fear we are a rather large group to entertain."

Talaitha feigned a yawn to hide her smile when Bilbo muttered something about having his pantry pillaged by dwarves.

But Beorn, thankfully, hadn't heard the hobbit's disgruntled mumblings. "Go on, whistle again! If I'm in for a party, which it seems I am, a few more won't make a difference."

Just then, Dori and Ori arrived to introduce themselves with a deep bow. Thorin continued his story, sometimes helped along by Talaitha, while the rest of the dwarves trickled inside in pairs, five minutes apart, as Gandalf had instructed. When Thorin had reached the part during which they'd been attacked by Azog, Gandalf took over.

"Flaming pinecones!" The skin-changer guffawed. "I wish I'd been there. I would have given them more than fireworks."

To Talaitha's relief, Beorn had become so engrossed in the story that he seemed to accept the thirteen dwarves with little more than a distracted wave of his hand. She suspected that had been Gandalf's intention all along and the reason he'd had them stagger their arrivals.

When the events had been recounted, Beorn was grinning. "A very good tale! The best I've heard in a long while. If all vagabonds could tell such stories, they might find me more welcoming." Then he shrugged. "You may be making it all up, of course, but you deserve a supper for the excellent entertainment."

The meal was unlike anything Talaitha had experienced. Gray dogs strode in on their hind legs, carrying torches with their forefeet to light the hearth. White horses pushed in benches and a table that were approximately dwarf-sized. And fluffy sheep set the table with cutlery and food. All the while, Beorn and the animals communicated in animal sounds that formed a strange yet familiar language.

There was no meat served, but the dwarves wisely didn't vocalize their laments, for they knew Beorn would be less forgiving than the elves. And the cakes, honey, nuts, and cream were satisfying enough, though Talaitha considered them more dessert than a proper meal.

Beorn told them stories of his own, ending with the decline of the Green Wood. "It is called Mirkwood now," he said grimly. "Terrible creatures dwell there-giant spiders, wicked wargs-, and the forest is slowly decaying."

Talaitha shuddered. "But I was there less than a year ago, when it was still green and good."

"Then you were there shortly before it turned dark and dangerous," Beorn replied. "Radagast and the elves fight it best they can, but the spiders grow bolder."

Gandalf shared a look with Thorin, both thinking the same thought: the Necromancer was responsible.

"Why don't the elves just leave if it's so dangerous?" Bilbo asked.

Talaitha felt Thorin stiffen beside her. "I would not be surprised if they did," he said coldly.

She was confused for a second before realization dawned. _Oh_. It was the wood elves that had abandoned the dwarves to Smaug. A valid reason for Thorin's anger but probably not one to be discussed with Beorn. She placed a hand on the dwarf's arm, and he seemed to relax slightly.

Beorn glanced briefly at Thorin, then at Bilbo. "Would you so easily give up your home, little hobbit?"

Bilbo didn't have to think about his answer; of course he wouldn't, even though he knew his kin were little match against evil creatures. He began to feel homesick again, while Talaitha felt a pang of guilt for happily leaving Nemere when there were plenty of people there who needed her help.

"Well, I have quite enjoyed this gathering, but I have some business to attend to," Beorn announced, temporarily breaking the somber mood. "Make yourselves at home. All your needs shall be seen to."

The Company moved to the floor while the animals cleaned up the remnants of dinner. Talaitha sat beside Bilbo, slightly away from Gandalf and the dwarves, who were all smoking. It wasn't the smoke that distanced her but her thoughts of home.

"Where do you reckon he's going?" asked Bofur, lighting his pipe.

"To the goblin cave, I expect," Gandalf replied. "Beorn hates goblins, and that is partly why he extended kindness to you all." He looked at Talaitha, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Our dear little fairy is another reason."

Thorin's brows furrowed in confusion. "What does he mean?"

Talaitha sighed. "He means that Beorn and I are distantly related because the skin-changers descended from a szelemér man and a human woman."

"So fairies can transform into animals, too?" asked Kili.

"No, but some can communicate with them," Talaitha replied. "And that's how Beorn's kin began, though I have no idea how or when they learned to change their form."

Fili grinned. "No wonder you were so excited to meet him."

"Will you tell us about your home?" asked Ori. He'd been scribbling in his journal and would no doubt record Talaitha's descriptions.

"There is much to tell."

"What's the name of your city?" Dori asked.

"Lelle. It is the capital and largest city." She smiled as she remembered it. "The streets are cobbled, and everyone gathers together for market days. People play instruments and dance and sing."

Kili grinned. "Sing us one of the songs!"

"Absolutely not." Talaitha laughed.

"What about the one about the flowers and pearls?" Bilbo earned a glare from the fairy for his suggestion.

"You've heard us sing, lass," said Balin. "It's only fair that we hear you now."

Thorin hid his amusement as Talaitha helplessly looked to him and Gandalf for aid. Neither man offered any; in fact, the wizard seemed to enjoy her discomfort. For a moment, Thorin considered supporting her, but in the end, his curiosity and desire to hear her sing overruled his sympathy.

When Talaitha realized she was outnumbered, she sighed and took a sip of water to moisten her throat, which had suddenly become quite dry. She suspected the cause was the same as what had her stomach in knots.

Taking a deep, calming breath, she began to sing.

_On top of the rainbow,_

_Is a full-bloomed lily;_

_She sits there, discontent,_

_She wants to hide away._

_She must be taken from there_

_And be placed somewhere new._

_She must be taken from there_

_And be placed somewhere new._

Her voice shook slightly at the next four verses, and tears welled in her eyes, which she quickly blinked away.

_For my father and mother,_

_I'd do anything;_

_I'd skim the foam_

_Off the ocean with a spoon._

_From the seafloor,_

_I would collect pearls;_

_But only for my rose,_

_Would I fashion a wreathe of pearls._

Without thinking, Talaitha met Thorin's gaze and held it long enough that the Company shifted uncomfortably. Gandalf was the only one not bothered; indeed, he was smiling knowingly. Thorin was the first to look away, though he regretted doing so.

"We should get some sleep," he said brusquely.

"A fine idea," Gandalf agreed. "We are safe in Beorn's hall, but do not stray outside until the sun has risen."

Sometime during the evening, beds had been laid on a raised platform between two pillars, and the fire had burned low. Bilbo snuggled into the soft blanket, grateful for a respite from the cold, hard, dirty ground. He and the dwarves fell asleep quickly, lulled by the crickets' chirps and the crackling of the embers.

For Talaitha, however, sleep did not come. After tossing and turning for an hour, she sat up and gazed out the window at the moon. It was nearly full.

"What is wrong?" asked Thorin. He sat down beside her on the bed.

She didn't seem surprised that he, too, was still awake. Instead, her voice was tinged with sadness. "My mother and I used to lie in the meadow outside Lelle and watch the moon. We'd track its phases and make up stories about moon-people."

Thorin took her hand. "Tell me one of them."

"They're silly." She tried to pull her hand away, but he didn't let her.

"If they comfort you, they're not silly."

That was all the encouragement Talaitha needed. She scooted closer to Thorin and laid her head on his shoulder. "My favorite one's about Nagtael and the moon's queen, Holdhölgy, which means Lady of the Moon. Very original, I know."

Thorin smirked but didn't reply. After a moment, she began her tale.

_All sorts of creatures lived on the moon-elves, dwarves, humans, tree-people, horned horses, flying horses, goblins, dragons. But they were different from the beings you might know. The elves were wild and had hair like brambles and skin like tree bark. The dwarves made fire wine, which was imbued with magma. The dragons weren't all fire-breathers; some breathed a healing energy, while others could harness lightning. And they weren't greedy, not about treasure at least. They valued knowledge above all else. _

"Too bad Smaug isn't one of those dragons," Thorin muttered.

Talaitha giggled softly. "They're still dangerous, and they'd probably attack you if you withheld information from them. But yes, I like them better than Smaug, too."

_Each being had his or her own talent, which was often magical and usually useful. Except Nagtael Silentfighter's. His gift seemed to entail repelling magical objects, which was rather inconvenient in a magical land. But luckily his job as a watchman didn't require the use of magical objects._

_One day, as Nagtael was riding through the forest on his rounds, he came across the tree-people, who bore terrible news: the goblin, led by Gbanuz Stonebelch, were attacking peaceful creatures. They had to be stopped. So Nagtael went to each race's demesnes and rallied an army with which to fight the goblins. _

_The allies fought valiantly, and Gbanuz was killed, leaving the goblins leaderless. That was when Holdhölgy, high above the battlefield, astride a beautiful sorrel flying horse, used her gift. She unleashed a burst of pure goodness on everyone who'd participated in the battle, including and especially the goblins. Now all creatures would live in harmony for as long as Holdhölgy lived. _

_But the Lady of the Moon was curious why Gbanuz had waged war, since many years ago, a wizard named Valo had cast a spell of peace on them. Well, it turned out, Gbanuz had become immune to peace and succumbed to his race's natural penchant for warmongering. _

_Nagtael was hailed as a hero, for he'd rallied the army and helped kill Gbanuz. The goblins had gone back to squabbling amongst themselves. And the other creatures went back to their daily lives, as though nothing had happened. All was once again well in the land._

"How old were you when you made up that story?"

"Ten, I think. I'd just read about the goblin wars of the First Age and wanted to make them the villains of a story."

She smiled fondly at the memory of lying in the cool grass, staring up at the moon, and imagining a great battle taking place on it.

"If you miss Nemere so much, why not go home?"

Talaitha raised her head from Thorin's shoulder. "I _didn't_ miss it at first. Not for years," she replied softly. "I was too enthralled with all my adventures, with sharing my kin's remedies with the people of Middle-earth. And now I will wait until you've reclaimed Erebor."

He felt a sudden surge of affection for her, but it was quickly soured by remorse. "I'm sorry I misjudged you."

She shrugged. "You did not know me."

"No, but I am pleased to be changing that."

Talaitha blushed and tried to duck her head, but Thorin gently tilted up her chin so he could see her eyes. They watched each other for a few seconds, then he leaned in and kissed her. She didn't hesitate to return the kiss this time, but it was interrupted by a growling and a scratching outside the door.

They didn't move away from each other, not even when Bilbo sat up abruptly in bed. He didn't immediately see the dwarf and the fairy, for his attention was on the door as he pulled the covers up to his neck.

Talaitha's hand slipped from Thorin's when the hobbit finally noticed them. The dwarf felt cold, like he'd been snowed on after spending the night by a warm fire. Logically, he knew it was best if he and Talaitha were subtle about their relationship-whatever their relationship _was_-until their quest was complete, yet he couldn't dismiss the pang of disappointment.

"Oh, sorry!" Bilbo whispered. "I, uh, heard a noise."

The fairy peered outside the window, but there was no movement, except the breeze. "I think that was Beorn in bear form."

"Do you think he'll come inside?" The hobbit's voice was only barely colored with fear.

"I don't think so," Talaitha replied. "He means us no harm."

"Unless he also has the mind of a bear." Thorin's tone was so nonchalant that he might've been talking about the weather.

Bilbo's eyes widened slightly, and Talaitha glared at the dwarf.

"Gandalf said we're safe inside, and I trust him." She shifted in the bed, nudging Thorin with her foot. "The noises have stopped, so I think we should sleep."

Thorin resisted the urge to swat at her foot, for he knew Bilbo hadn't seen her motion; there was no reason to draw attention to it. Reluctantly, he stood and laid down in his own bed, feeling even colder now that he was on the other side of the platform.

It took over an hour, but finally, sleep came for the dwarf and the fairy.

#

"And then he tripped over the leg of a bench and fell face first into one of the men in the tavern!"

Loud guffaws filled the garden as Fili recounted Kili's most recent attempt at impressing a she-dwarf. The dark-haired brother bit out a curse in Khuzdul and punched his brother's shoulder.

"Don't look so put out, laddie," said Glóin. "Even the best of us strike out sometimes."

Óin grinned. "Like that time you dropped your axe on your foot, and it sliced halfway through your boot?"

Glóin stuffed a honey cake into his mouth, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "deaf, old bat."

Talaitha made the mistake of giggling too loudly, and it caught Kili's attention. "What about you, little minx? Got any embarrassing stories?"

"None that I'd tell you lot." She bit into an apple slice.

"It's only fair that you tell us one now that you've heard ours," said Glóin.

"Aye, lass, he's right," said Dwalin.

"Fine," she relented. "There _was_ this one night in Bree..."

"Well go on, tell us!" the dwarves chorused.

"I was helping the healers treat an epidemic of scarlet fever, but many of the midwives were ill, so I was asked to assist a birth. Later that day, I was in the Prancing Pony, and the husband of the woman whose baby I'd delivered walked in. I thought he was just celebrating his son's birth, until he pulled a girl onto his lap and, well, you know.

So I went over to his table and accused him of being a pig of a husband and a terrible father. The girl slapped him _hard_ and left, and it was only then that I realized he wasn't the same man. I stammered an apology and ran outside, completely humiliated.

I didn't step foot inside the Prancing Pony for months. And I coincidentally haven't drunk more than one flagon of ale at a time."

"Yeah, yours is much worse than Glóin's boot," Kili chuckled.

Talaitha's first instinct was to glare at the young dwarf, but then another, better idea occurred to her.

"Oh, Kili. If you fancied the man, you could have just told him. There was no reason for such a dramatic charade," she deadpanned.

Kili gaped at her, unable to form coherent words; he kept opening and closing his mouth, looking like a large, hirsute fish. Talaitha smirked as the dwarves laughed and clapped her on the back, some of them rather hard. Even Thorin managed a smile, which filled Talaitha with warmth and pride. It was no simple task to coax the dwarf king's lips out of their habitual frown.

Bilbo walked into the courtyard, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What's all the ruckus?"

"Ms. Talaitha rendered Kili speechless," said Ori.

"Really?" Bilbo looked at Talaitha. "How?"

"That's not important," she replied with a slight blush. "Come, have some breakfast."

The hobbit sat down beside Talaitha and helped himself to honey cakes, berries, and cream.

"You're lucky there's still some left." Bofur grinned. "If you'd slept any longer, there wouldn't have been."

The fairy fixed the dwarf with a mock-glare, before patting Bilbo's shoulder. "I'd have saved you a plate."

It was only when Bilbo was eating his second cake that he noticed one of their group was missing. "Where's Gandalf?"

"He was gone this morning when we awoke, and Beorn hasn't returned yet either," said Balin.

"Shouldn't we look for them?"

Thorin spoke for the first time that morning. "We will as soon as you finish."

When Bilbo had eaten his fill, they walked the perimeter of the house, looking for any sign of the skin-changer and the wizard. All they found were bear tracks leading into the forest. None of the others had heard the noises last night, but Thorin nodded at Bilbo and Talaitha; it _had_ been Beorn at the door.

The two of them hung back, in case Beorn or Gandalf returned, as Thorin led the dwarves into the forest to follow the bear prints.

Talaitha kicked at a rock as they rounded the house. "You told the dwarves that I'm a princess, didn't you."

"I'm sorry, it just slipped out," Bilbo said. "They kept pestering me about why you were wearing a circlet."

Talaitha shrugged. "It's fine. I'd have told them if they'd asked, but I didn't think it was vital information."

"No?"

The fairy quirked a curious brow.

"You and Thorin," Bilbo elaborated. "I saw you holding hands during the walk to Beorn's house."

"Oh, that." Talaitha sighed. "Don't ask me about that, for I have no answers yet." She stopped and placed a hand on his shoulder. "And please don't tell the others. They need to know they can rely on Thorin, that he's focused on the quest, and I fear I've blundered into the middle of it."

She sounded so guilty that Bilbo gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "Perhaps, but he growls and scowls less ever since."

Talaitha giggled. "Just don't let _him_ hear you say that."

Soon after, the dwarves returned, looking glum.

"No sign of either of them?" Talaitha asked.

Thorin shook his head.

Bilbo sighed. "So what do we do now?"

"We wait."

And wait they did, all the way until sunset, at which time, the door flew open and Gandalf strode in. As he took off his hat and leaned his staff against the wall, Talaitha greeted him.

"Nice of you to join us."

The wizard regarded her with amusement. "While you've all been resting, I did some investigating." He sat at the table and piled bread, honey, and whipped cream onto his plate. "I followed Beorn's bear tracks and came upon many more, all headed toward the goblin mountain."

"What if he leads them here?" Dori asked anxiously. "I thought he was a friend."

"And so he is!" There was an impatient edge to Gandalf's voice. "Remember, Beorn hates goblins worse than any other creature."

"Will he defeat them?" asked Ori.

The wizard shrugged. "He might. There was a small army of bears accompanying him."

After supper, they were mostly silent, restlessly awaiting Beorn's return. But it was in vain, for the skin-changer was still missing by the time the Company went to bed.

Once again, Talaitha laid awake, staring at the wooden beams above, until she grew tired of them and glanced instead at Thorin's bed. She didn't know if he was asleep, but still she tiptoed over to him. He was lying on his side, his back to her.

"Thorin?" she whispered, tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder.

He turned to her, and she was relieved to note that he didn't look like he'd just woken. "Come." He sat up and gently pulled her down beside him.

She laid her head on his shoulder, smiling at their clasped hands in her lap. "_You_ tell me a story tonight."

"It would not be as creative as yours."

"Then tell me a true one."

He was about to protest again when he felt Talaitha's fingers entwine with his own. The gesture was a simple one, but it silenced whatever objections he had and filled his heart with warmth. He would think of a tale.

He told her of Erebor before Smaug attacked, when it was still glittering and magnificent, when the kings and queens of each race, even of the wood elves, came to pledge their respect and support for Thrór, the mightiest of the dwarf kings.

He told her of his younger sister, Dis, about how she used to steal strawberries from the kitchen when she was little; of Frerin, who'd bravely and somewhat foolishly challenged Dwalin to a fight when he was just ten. And had nearly won.

Finally, he told her of the forges, where the finest jewelry and weapons were made; of the mines, where rubies and diamonds and emeralds sparkled as far as the eye could see. And he told her of the Arkenstone, the most beautiful gem of all, which had become a symbol of the royal line.

"What happened to it?"

"The dragon has it, along with all the gold and jewels." Thorin tried to keep the anger from leaking into his voice, but Talaitha heard it.

She squeezed his hand. "You _will_ defeat Smaug, and when you do, there will once more be a King under the Mountain for the Arkenstone to represent."

Thorin kissed the top of her head, smiling at the ever-present scent of lilacs. He wished he could fully convey his affection toward her, but for the moment, sitting on his bed together-with her hand in his and her head resting on his shoulder-would have to suffice.

When he finally fell asleep, he dreamt he and Talaitha were walking along Erebor's halls hand-in-hand. She wore an amethyst crown.


	14. Chapter 14: One Step Forward, Two Back

Hello from Budapest!

Though not for long, as I'm leaving for the airport in half an hour to go to Düsseldorf, Germany for FedCon. XD It's a sci-fi convention, where Claudia Black (Aeryn Sun in _Farscape_), Ben Browder (John Crichton in _Farscape_), and John Barrowman (Jack Harkness in _Torchwood_) will be. I'm super excited, though incredibly sleep-deprived, lol.

Budapest welcomed me with loads of problems; the water heater in my parents' bathroom isn't working, and apparently only the manufacturer can fix it because only their technicians are allowed access to the parts... And since I'm here alone (parents won't be coming till June/July), I get the headache of dealing with it. XD

So thanks for your reviews, favorites, and follows; they've cheered me up!

3insteinComplex: I'm flattered! Yes, loads of inspiration, though perhaps not the kind you expected? The last line in chapter 13 is indeed prophetic. XD

Abyss Prime: Thank you!

FleurSuoh: Updated. :)

Kat7CA: I had Thorin+Talaitha feels as I was writing those parts, too! Thank you. :)

Just4Me: Don't we all? :D

LianaDare8: Somehow I don't think you're joking. XD Makeout session coming soon...maybe.

KillerKadoogan: That "Talaitha calming Thorin moment with a touch" actually came from _Robin Hood_, when Marian does the same to Guy of Gisborne (played by Richard Armitage); I watched it before writing the chapter. XD I enjoyed writing that chapter way too much because of the humor and fuzzy feels. :)

Naomi: Hi! Sorry about naked Gandalf...but he was actually clothed in my mind by then, since he was smoking his pipe on a rock. It'd be weird if he did that naked. XD

MoonCrown: Fluff is fun! And you're partly right about Thorin's jealousy, as this chapter will show. :)

**About this chapter:**

1. Mirkwood. Was. A. Bitch. To. Write

2. No fluff. And I mean _none_. I was in a bad mood because I'd left problems in Florida only to be greeted with new problems in Budapest. This chapter was a way to vent my frustrations, and I feel better now. XD But poor, poor Talarin.

3. Somewhere in there is the word "Nemerean." It just means "from Nemere."

4. Talaitha's bow (described in the chapter) is a based off an ancient Scythian (present-day Iran) bow. Pictures are on my profile.

Anyway, I kind of apologize in advance for the angst in this chapter, but it was therapeutic and even fun to write. So enjoy?

**Disclaimer**: By now, I probably don't even own Talaitha.

* * *

**Chapter 14: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back**

A door slammed.

Talaitha jolted awake with the rest of the Company, looking for the source of the noise. They didn't have to search long, for he knelt by the platform and regarded them with amusement.

"So, here you are still." Beorn plucked Bilbo out of bed, laughing at the hobbit's disgruntled mumblings.

Had it not been dawn, perhaps the dwarves would have chuckled, too, but they merely yawned and rubbed the last remnants of sleep from their eyes. All except Thorin, who was already out of bed and standing almost protectively beside Bilbo.

Beorn winked. "I'm glad to see you weren't eaten by wargs or goblins or wicked bears."

"Did you learn anything while you were away?" Gandalf asked.

"Oh yes. For one, that your thrilling tale is true," the skin-changer replied. "And that the goblins are furious because you killed their king. They have joined with the Pale Orc to hunt you all."

Thorin grimaced, his gaze meeting the wizard's. If the Company encountered Azog again, not even giant eagles could save them this time, for goblins would reach them no matter where they hid. Bilbo swallowed hard when he came to the same conclusion. In fact, all the dwarves looked grim. Talaitha was the only one who seemed unaffected by Beorn's news; s_he_ appeared to be deep in thought.

Beorn invited them to breakfast in the garden. "You must forgive me for not believing your story, but if you, too, lived near the borders of Mirkwood, you would trust no one you didn't know as well as or better than your brother." Then he was cheerful again. "If our meeting has taught me one thing, it's to look more kindly on dwarves. Killed the Great Goblin indeed!"

No one, not even the wizard, felt the need to point out that it was actually Gandalf who had slain the goblin king. The dwarves had earned the skin-changer's respect and trust; it would be foolish to risk jeopardizing that by correcting his assumption.

"How did you learn all this?" Bilbo asked.

"I captured one of the goblins, who, after a bit of persuasion, decided to tell me." Beorn smirked, though something feral glinted in his brown eyes.

"Mirkwood," Talaitha said suddenly, garnering confused looks from the dwarves. "If we go through Mirkwood, the goblins and orcs won't follow."

"Absolutely not," Thorin growled.

But Talaitha wasn't deterred. "They don't like elves, so they'll avoid the forest."

"Make no mistake, young fairy," Beorn cautioned. "The Green Wood is no more. You would be trading one threat for another."

"Yes, but there's also a chance that the elves would aid us," she replied. "I know them, which would work in our favor."

Even before Talaitha looked at Thorin, she could feel the sting of his glare. She was tempted to roll her eyes, but that would have been disrespectful, especially in front of his kin. So she settled for a barely audible sigh.

Mercifully, Gandalf rescued Talaitha from the dwarf king's ire. "Even without the elves' help, Mirkwood seems your best option, for it is quickest." He paused. "Or at least it was last I traveled through it."

Thorin's glare softened as he considered the wizard's words. Durin's Day was only a month and a half away; they didn't have time to go around the forest. He bit back a curse, looking as though he'd eaten something bitter.

"We go through Mirkwood."

"Then you shall need all the help I can offer," said Beorn, all humor gone.

#

After breakfast, the skin-changer gave Talaitha a satchel of plants, many of them Nemerean, to restock her healing supplies. He also put three jars of his honey into her bag. For the rest of the Company, he packed enough food to last them weeks, hardy, energy-rich foods such as twice-baked cakes, dried fruit, and nuts. The dwarves appreciated Beorn's help, of course, but how they longed for meat!

The Company followed the skin-changer outside, where he led out fifteen ponies and a horse for Gandalf. Bilbo stared uneasily at the goblin's head impaled on one of the front gate's spikes. At least now he didn't have to ask what Beorn had done with his informant. The trophy had quite the opposite effect on Thorin, who regarded their host with a newfound respect.

"Here are some bows and arrows, though I doubt you will find anything wholesome enough to hunt."

As Beorn was about to hand Talaitha a bow, he noticed one was already strapped to her back. "A szelemér bow!" he exclaimed. "It is long since I have seen one so beautiful."

And it _was_ beautiful, with its sinuous recurve shape and ornately-painted designs of mythical creatures in blue and gold. Talaitha nodded her head in thanks and accepted the proffered arrows, for she'd lost hers in the goblin cave.

"You are in good company, for the fairies are as skilled with a bow as the elves."

Talaitha's head snapped up in Thorin's direction, dreading his reaction to Beorn's words. The dwarf king did not disappoint; a fierce scowl accompanied the hatred in his eyes-not hatred for Talaitha but for being reminded of her shared ancestry with elves. If he thought about it too long, her elf-like features irked him, for even now, he was glaring disdainfully at her pointed ears.

The szelemér girl averted her gaze and tried to blink away the tears, but despite her efforts, one hot tear slid down her cheek, though thankfully no one saw. The tension, however, _was_ noticed, and Beorn awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Your way through Mirkwood will be dark, dangerous, and difficult. Water is scarce, and streams are often malevolent, particularly the black one that crosses your path. Do not touch its waters in any way, for it will make you sleep and forget."

As the Company climbed into their saddles, Beorn offered one final, important piece of advice.

"Stray not from the path, or it will be your doom." Then all somberness vanished, and he grinned. "When you reach the forest gate, send back my horse and ponies. I wish you all every manner of luck and speed, and my house is open to you if ever you are in these parts again." He looked pointedly at the fairy, who acknowledged his invitation with a smile, forced though it was.

And then they were off, trotting farther away from the safety of Beorn's home and closer to Smaug. Talaitha's heart tightened with fear-not of the dragon or the twisted creatures that dwelled in Mirkwood.

Of the dwarf king who rode beside the wizard.

#

By evening, the Company skirted the goblins' mountain. They rode in silence, partly to avoid the foul things and partly because they were too sullen for conversation. Even Talaitha, who was normally quite cheerful, sulked in her saddle, which troubled Bilbo. He couldn't even ask her why, for when he whispered to her, she quieted him with a glare.

When dusk fell, they made camp by a stream but didn't dare build a fire. Talaitha volunteered to take the first watch, since she was too restless to sleep, and sat against a tree, huddled in her cloak, staring out into the black forest. An owl perched on a branch, hooting periodically, before unfurling its wings and flying away. No other animals stirred.

Halfway through her watch, she heard footsteps approaching and tensed, her hand clutching Ezüstlélek's hilt. But it was just Thorin who sat down beside her. Neither said anything for minutes; the only sounds were the breeze in the trees, the dwarves' snores, and the slight hitch in Talaitha's breathing as she shivered. Thorin made no move to warm her.

"You should be asleep," said the fairy.

Thorin ignored her words. "You must know Thranduil very well if you believe your presence amongst us will elicit a kind welcome."

"I do," she replied neutrally. "Not nearly as well as Elrond, but well enough to anticipate his greeting towards me."

She didn't have to see Thorin's face to discern his sneer, for it colored his voice. "I suppose you look enough like an elf to earn their friendship."

He waited for a response, for something to goad her into an argument so he could vent his frustrations. But she was silent, and that prompted him to say something he would later regret.

"And perhaps even more."

The slap to his cheek was an ugly surprise in the darkness. "How did you...?" he asked, grabbing her wrist before she could pull away.

"Like I said," she spat. "The szelemér were created from elves, so we have superior eyesight to dwarves."

That was a dangerous thing to say, for Thorin was already angry. Now he yanked Talaitha closer and gripped her other wrist before she could hit him again. She struggled against him, but he held her firmly.

"Why do you insist on reminding me of that fact?" he snarled, though something akin to desperation laced his tone.

"Because I am proud of my ancestry," she answered. "And you didn't seem to mind it when you kissed me."

His hold on her arms loosened as he remembered how soft and sweet her lips had been against his, how endearingly she'd blushed after their first kiss. Those thoughts were quickly replaced by the memory of her pointed ears, and his grip tightened. But whatever cruel remark he'd planned died in his throat when he felt her take a deep, shaky breath.

"But I guess you won't be doing that again," she whispered, and he knew a tear had slid down her cheek. "Now that you've insinuated I'm nothing more than an elf's whore."

Her accusation stung worse than the slap to his cheek, and this time when she tried to pull away, he let her, his arms dropping limply to his sides. He heard her stand and walk towards the group, trying to quiet her sobs.

Thorin Oakenshield sat against the tree for the remainder of the night, not bothering to wake Dwalin for his watch. An internal battle silently raged, making his heart simultaneously ache for and turn cold towards the fairy.

#

The bright morning did nothing to soothe the tension between Talaitha and Thorin, who rode on opposite ends of the procession; Talaitha was beside Bilbo near the back, while Thorin led with Gandalf. The wizard had noticed their sudden emotional and physical distance, and he suspected its cause was Thorin's jealousy of Talaitha's easy friendships with the elves, and now with Beorn. He hoped that by the time the Company encountered the elves, the two would be reconciled, for if the elves sensed the tension between Talaitha and Thorin, the dwarves would be treated less kindly.

Bilbo, too, had deduced the reason for their rift, but fortunately none of the others had. They attributed the avoidance to the grim mood that had settled over the Company as they neared Mirkwood. And when Thorin periodically glanced back, they thought he was just making sure everyone was accounted for.

They decided to push on through the night, since they were near. Sometime after midnight, the shadowy form of a great bear prowled amongst the trees, keeping pace with the Company. Talaitha shifted in her saddle as the bear rose on its hind legs, seemingly staring right at them.

"I think he's watching out for us," she said softly, but most of the group heard her in the silent night.

"Or stalking us like prey," Glóin muttered.

#

On the fourth day, the land began to slope upward, and the birds had stopped chirping. By afternoon, they'd reached the gate of Mirkwood, beyond which they could see huge, ugly trees with dark leaves and gnarled branches.

"And so we've arrived," said Gandalf. His cheerful tone was misplaced in the gloom of the impending forest. "This is where I leave you. I'm sure we'll meet again before all this is over, but then again, we may not. That depends on your luck, courage, and sense." He looked meaningfully at Bilbo, Thorin, and Talaitha.

"I wish you were coming with us," lamented the hobbit. The fairy silently agreed.

"As do I, if only to see you safely to the other side," Gandalf replied.

When Talaitha walked over to the wizard, he dismounted. Crouching, he embraced her and smiled fondly as she kissed his cheek.

"Stay safe, Szürkevándorló."

"You, too, my dear," Gandalf replied, then whispered in her ear, "Give him time."

Her look of surprise was the last thing he saw as he turned his horse around and galloped back towards Beorn's house. Talaitha watched until he was nothing more than a gray dot, then helped unpack the ponies, before they, too, returned home.

The bags were distributed as fairly as possible, though the dwarves insisted Bilbo and Talaitha carry the two lightest. Talaitha didn't bother protesting, and she silenced Bilbo when he tried. An argument would just delay them, and the sooner they entered Mirkwood, the sooner they'd be out of it.

As they stood by the gate, peering into the sinister forest, Bilbo balked. "Do we really have to go in there?"

"It's too late to turn back. There's nothing for it now." Bofur clapped him on the shoulder.

"No, no, that's not what I meant," the hobbit corrected. "I meant is there no convenient path around it?"

"Gandalf said going through Mirkwood is quickest," said Talaitha. "Besides, if you went around it, you'd encounter the Grey Mountains, which are rife with goblins and orcs."

"Wood elves are hardly better," Thorin murmured.

"Then try your luck with the orc-kind," she said, the slight edge to her voice belying her neutral expression.

When none of the dwarves moved, Talaitha pushed open the gate and strode into the forest, suppressing the chill that ran down her spine as the oppressive shadows bore down upon her. Reluctantly, and somewhat ashamedly because a woman was braver than they, the rest of the Company followed, and they walked single-file on the narrow path. The canopy of trees was so dense that sunlight barely filtered through it, and the deeper they delved, the more sickly the forest appeared. Then they encountered the reddish trees that oozed a thick, black sap.

"Something has poisoned them," Talaitha breathed in shock. Before anyone could stop her, she leaned over the edge of the path and touched the nearest red tree's trunk, careful to avoid the sap. "Yet they do not die."

Her ominous tone sent shivers down Bilbo's spine, and the dwarves glanced uneasily at the trees. They quickened their pace and only relaxed once they'd left the eerie trees behind them.

A sudden grunting sound startled the Company, but all they saw were black squirrels, which were too small to make the harsh noise. Huge cobwebs hung on the trees around the path, but none crossed it. Talaitha wondered if a spell kept them at bay. She hoped so, for that same spell would protect them as long as they remained on the trail.

They trudged on, grumbling and cursing at the lack of a breeze that would have made the dank, still, and decaying air more bearable. Talaitha wasn't surprised that Bilbo was miserable, but when even the dwarves complained about the cave-like forest, she knew it was bad, for they were accustomed to sunless and windless spaces. She tried to keep her spirits high by thinking of all the people and places she loved, but that just reminded her of her bright Nemere, and she felt like she was slowly suffocating. She hated Mirkwood even worse than the mountains, which was saying something.

#

Their first night was awful. It was so dark that they could barely see their own hands in front of their faces, but they had no trouble seeing the glinting, evil eyes that watched them from above and around. They had a brief respite from the darkness when they made a fire, but bats and black moths as large as their hands were soon attracted to it. They quickly stamped it out, but the number of yellow eyes had increased. Bilbo was particularly disturbed by the big, bulbous ones that stared down at them.

"Those are not animal eyes," he said.

Nori, who was an experienced hunter, agreed. "Not any animal's I've ever seen."

When they finally fell asleep, they did so near each other; in fact, Talaitha was hugged between Kili and Fili, but she didn't mind, for they kept her warm. She dreamt of the bulbous eyes and was just about to see their owner when she was shaken awake by Fili.

"Rise and shine, Laitha." He handed her one of Beorn's twice-baked cakes for breakfast.

Although they were still hungry, their uncertainty about the size of the forest forced them to ration the food and water. For the next week, they trekked glumly during the day and slept restlessly at night, while their provisions dwindled and the forest stretched on.

One afternoon, Thorin pulled Talaitha away from the others. "I thought you said you've been through Mirkwood before." His voice was harsh and bordering on accusatory.

"I have," she snapped. "But I also said that was when it was still the Green Wood. I don't recognize _this_ forest."

Excited shouts drew their attention; Kili had shot a black squirrel. Nori unsheathed his knife to skin it, but Talaitha shook her head. When she touched the animal, she recoiled. "Poisoned."

"Damn this place!" Dwalin cursed and threw the squirrel into the trees beyond the path. Something scuffled toward it in the fallen leaves.

"Obviously not poisoned enough," Bilbo quipped.

#

A few days later, they reached the black stream Beorn had warned them about. A thick fog had descended onto the forest, obscuring the dwarves' vision, and to make matters worse, the bridge that had once spanned the stream was now rotted and useless.

"How are we to cross?" Ori despaired.

Talaitha tapped the hobbit's shoulder and pointed to the far bank.

"There's a boat!" said Bilbo.

Thorin regarded her with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Since you have the keenest eyesight, tell us how far away it is."

Talaitha stared passively at him for a few seconds, then joined Bilbo at the edge of the stream. "About 12 yards."

"That's as good as a mile!" said Dori.

"We can't jump it, and we daren't try to swim," Balin agreed.

Thorin sighed impatiently. "We'll throw a rope with a hook on it and pull it to us."

"What's the good of that? It's surely tied," Glóin protested.

"It isn't." Talaitha's voice was soft, and they barely heard it. She met Thorin's gaze, before he looked away and nodded curtly at Kili.

The youngest of Durin's line stood beside Talaitha and peered into the distance. "I see it. Someone bring me a rope."

He quickly tied a hook to the end, balanced it, and flung it across the stream. He overshot it by a couple feet, but Talaitha guided him. "Draw it back gently. Good, the hook's caught on the boat. Now give it a tug."

The rope went taut, and the boat lurched forward. Fili helped Kili pull it to their side, while Talaitha found two long branches with which they could row and steer, since the oars were missing.

"Bilbo, Talaitha, you cross with me," said Thorin, climbing into the boat after the hobbit and fairy. "The rest of you, follow no more than three at a time. Bombur, cross last and alone."

The fat dwarf looked aggravated, but Thorin's glare silenced any protest he considered making. Talaitha felt sorry for the dwarf, but Thorin was right; Bombur's weight alone was equal to that of at least two dwarves.

The going was slow, but eventually, they all landed safely on the other side. Now only Bombur remained, and it seemed like he, too, would make it...until mayhem broke loose. A large buck jumped onto the bank where the dwarves stood, knocking some of them to the ground. Talaitha managed to duck the front hooves, while Thorin shot him as he leapt across the stream. The buck stumbled and collapsed on the opposite bank, but the dwarves cheered at their good fortune, for he looked healthy and could be reached with the boat.

Then Bilbo's frantic shout doused their optimism; Bombur had fallen into the black stream and was drowning. They threw a rope to him, which he caught, and hauled him to shore, but he was already asleep with a smile on his plump face.

"Curse the clumsy oaf," Dwalin grumbled. "Now we'll have to carry him."

"And the boat broke when he fell onto it," said Kili, staring at the splintered wood of the stern.

Fili sighed. "No venison after all."

As soon as the words left his mouth, a horn sounded, and white does and fawns appeared through the bushes. The dwarves aimed their bows.

"No! Don't shoot!" Talaitha placed herself between the dwarves and the deer. "They're mothers with their babies."

"We need food, lass," said Balin.

Talaitha stood her ground. "Then we shall find it elsewhere."

The dwarves acquiesced, albeit gracelessly and with plenty of grumbling. Thorin regarded her with veiled admiration, for although she'd ruined an easy meal, she'd also stood by her principles against thirteen armed dwarves. And it had reminded him of all the times he had received her kindness and affection, even when he hadn't deserved them. He mentally kicked himself for allowing his hatred of elves to poison everything they'd shared since meeting in Bag End.

She was watching him, too, though with a glint in her eyes that dared him to chide her for her actions. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. So he surprised her by nodding his head once, before slinging Bombur's right arm over his shoulder and carrying him with Dwalin, Bifur, and Bofur.

#

For five days, the dwarves alternated groups of four to bear their slumbering comrade. During one of their respites, they heard laughter-pleasant, musical laughter that could only belong to one race.

"Elves!" Talaitha stopped and gazed in the direction from which the mirthful sounds came. Soon, an eerily beautiful song followed. "We should go to them."

Thorin glanced at Fili, who touched the fairy's arm and gently said, "We have to stay on the path."

Talaitha nodded, but she looked disappointed. "Yes, of course. Lead on."

The trail went downhill from there, leading into a section of oaks, which looked healthier than the previous tress. However, this was little comfort to the Company, for trees of any kind meant they were still in the forest.

"Bilbo, climb the tallest oak and tell us what you see," said Thorin. He hoisted the hobbit onto a branch and watched him scale the tree with a hitherto unseen speed; it seemed he, too, was anxious to be rid of Mirkwood.

Ten minutes later, Bilbo dropped to the ground, panting. "As far as I could see, the forest goes on in all directions."

He wisely did not mention the "black emperor" butterflies that flitted in the tree tops as Thorin and the others cursed harshly in Khuzdul. Talaitha gave an exasperated sigh and started walking down the path again, sparing a single glance over her shoulder when she heard the dwarves fall in line behind her.

#

The next morning, they ate the last of their food and were nearing the bottom of their water skins. However, a tiny bit of fortune smiled upon them as it began to rain. They caught some droplets on their tongues, which helped to quench their thirst, but as quickly as the shower came, it also went.

Then they heard a groan. Bombur had finally awoken, though his complaints about his hunger and thirst almost made the Company wish he hadn't. He'd also forgotten everything that had happened since Bag End and barely believed the sequence of events his companions recounted.

"I suppose that's no stranger than the dreams I had," he said at last. "I was walking through a forest quite like this one, but it was lit with torches, lamps, and fires. In a large clearing, a grand feast was going on, and an elf king with a crown of leaves sat at the head."

Talaitha's eyebrows furrowed. "Thranduil wears such a crown."

Thorin scowled, but Bombur ignored it. "I don't care who it was, for there were so many things to eat and drink that I cannot describe them all."

"You need not try," Bilbo grumbled, his stomach gurgling with hunger.

Before Thorin could bark out orders to move on, Kili, who was farthest ahead, exclaimed, "Look, there are lights!"

And sure enough, they saw glowing, reddish-orange dots appear in the distance-fires. Fires meant people, and people meant food.

"It's like in my dream!" Bombur started toward the lights and was about to step off the path, when Thorin pulled him back.

"What good would a feast be if we don't return from it?"

"What good is continuing if we'll just starve?" Bilbo countered.

Balin, as usual, was the voice of reason. "Don't forget what Beorn said. If we stray off the path, we may never find it again."

Yet the others protested, and in the end, they decided they'd all investigate the fires. That way, even if they _did_ get lost, at least they'd be together, which increased their odds of survival.

The nearer they crept to the lights, the stronger the smell of roast meat and spices pervaded the air. It wasn't long before Bombur's hunger took over. When he ran into the clearing, the fires were extinguished, plunging the Company into complete darkness. Only Talaitha could see clearly enough to gather the others; she found Bilbo first, taking his hand and leading him to Kili, who took the hobbit's hand, until all the dwarves were linked and following Talaitha further into the forest.

The fires sprang up again, but this time, they approached more cautiously. Bombur managed to restrain himself, though he yearned to rush in.

"Bilbo, go talk to the elves and see if they'll give you food and water," said Thorin. "The rest of us will wait here."

Talaitha gave Thorin a measured look. "I think it'd be better if I go. After all, I look enough like the elves to earn their friendship."

So she had yet to forgive him for his callous insinuation. He regretted it, of course, but he couldn't show it in front of his men. "You will remain here." His tone was firm and final.

The fairy clenched her jaw but said nothing. The others were surprised by Thorin's treatment of her, for until they had entered Mirkwood, he had considered and even welcomed her suggestions. And though they would never admit it to their leader, they believed Talaitha was right.

Bilbo nervously walked into the circle of lights, but he didn't get a chance to talk, for the fires went out a second time. Talaitha found the others again, but now the elves seemed to have disappeared. The Company settled down to wait.

They sat in the pitch blackness for hours, long enough that some of the dwarves dozed off. Talaitha yawned as she struggled to stay awake. She felt a dwarf's hand gently pull her closer, and she didn't resist when her head fell onto his shoulder. Before she drifted to sleep, the scent of pipe smoke, something faintly musky, and the earth reached her nose.

Talaitha awoke to Thorin's voice. "They're back."

She saw he was already standing and wondered if he'd slept at all. Probably not, for how else would he have seen the lights?

When they reached the clearing, they stared in amazement at the feast, which looked just like Bombur had described. There sat Thranduil, with a crown of orange leaves upon his golden hair. Elves sang and played harps, while bowls of mouth-watering food were passed around the tables.

Suddenly, the fires were extinguished, though the Company was still hidden. Talaitha vaguely saw the dwarves' puzzled faces, but she was more concerned about Bilbo, who had gone missing. She searched in the darkness, not daring to call out to him in case foul creatures lurked nearby.

"Can you not see him?" asked Thorin.

"Of course I can," she snapped. "I'm just letting him stumble around in the dark alone."

"Our little minx has claws," said Kili, the smirk audible in his voice.

She sighed and sat down. "I'm as tired of this blasted forest as the rest of you."

"Traveling through it was your idea," Dori pointed out as politely as he could.

"Yes, I know," she replied. "And I still believe it's faster than fighting off hordes of orcs and goblins in the mountains. I'm just frustrated that I'm useless."

Her dejected tone surprised the dwarves, for Talaitha was often the one who bucked up everyone else's spirits with her ready smile and dry sense of humor. Now they felt obliged to return the favor.

"You can see things we can't," said Ori. "Like right now. I bet you can see me, but I can't see you."

"And if you hadn't known the squirrel I shot was poisoned, we'd have eaten it and might've been sick," Kili said.

Thorin wished he could add his own praise, but he was too hungry, tired, thirsty, and annoyed to think of anything complimentary about her, especially after their argument. He still cared for her, but he couldn't silence that nagging whisper in the back of his mind, reminding him that she felt a special fondness for elves. If he'd be honest with himself, he'd realize it was fear that prompted him to treat her so unkindly-fear that there was no room for him in her heart. But it was easier to blame her for being friends with his people's enemy.

"You didn't make fun of me for falling into the black stream."

Bombur's comment elicited laughter, easing the tension a bit. Talaitha was glad her giggles masked the hitch in her breath, for the dwarves' kindness had brought tears of gratitude. She turned her head and Thorin was looking in her direction, though she knew he couldn't see her in the dark. But she could see him, could see his conflicted expression, yet she still could not forgive him for what he'd said.

After some discussion, it was decided that nothing more could be done to locate Bilbo that night, even with Talaitha's sharp vision, so the Company would wait until morning. Once again, they huddled together and fell into a fitful sleep. The spiders arrived so quietly that no one heard them.

Talaitha awoke when she felt something hairy and heavy wrap around her waist. Thinking it was one of the dwarves' arms, she pushed it off, then froze; it was much too large and prickly to be a dwarf's arm. Steeling herself, she forced her gaze up and screamed at what she saw-a huge, black spider towered above her, its great fangs dripping venom that splashed onto Fili's chest beside her.

Her shriek woke the dwarves and aggravated the spiders, who began snatching up the dwarves. They were as terrified as she was, though they couldn't see their attackers. They blindly tried to dodge the spiders' prodding legs, not risking using their weapons for fear of striking a friend.

"What are they?" Talaitha heard Dori cry.

"Giant spiders!" she shouted and managed to slice off a leg of the one following her.

Now that the dwarves knew their foe, they, too, began slashing at the legs. Talaitha spotted Thorin and ran towards him, but before she could reach him, a spider hoisted her into the air. Her scream distracted the dwarf king long enough for him to be captured also, but he was more concerned about Talaitha; her yell was one of pain, not fear. His heart sank when he felt the spider's fangs pierce the skin of his arm. His last thought before he succumbed to the venom was that they were doomed.

And that he wished he could have kissed Talaitha one last time before they died.


	15. Chapter 15: Sustenance of the Soul

Hello everyone!

I'm in Budapest again, though Saturday I'm flying to London till Wednesday. I'll have my laptop, though, so chapter 16 should be out Thursday or Friday at the latest. :)

I forgot to mention when I posted the last chapter that I'd deviated from the book a bit. The red trees-those are from the preview pictures of _Desolation of Smaug_; I liked them and wanted to include them. Of course, I have no idea what they are, or if they're even significant, so I made up my own explanation for them. XD The Company only chased the elves twice; writing that got old fast. And I completely omitted Thorin's walking into the clearing and falling asleep. I just couldn't imagine our strong, cranky dwarf king being so easily enchanted. In fact, I left out the falling asleep bit altogether. I think those are the biggest changes.

Now for the lovely reviewers!

A blanket response to all: Yes, Thorin was mean, but he and Talaitha are of two different races, so their relationship shouldn't be too easy, I think. I like a bit of drama, and although I _was_ pissed off when I wrote that part, the story needed it in that moment. Their fight mirrored the misery of Mirkwood.

Abyss Prime: Yes, it's one of my cleverer titles, I think. XD

Just4Me: Thorin's not a warm and fuzzy dwarf, though, is he? Especially not when he feels threatened. So I guess making someone cry was inevitable, lol.

amcozy: Thank you!

: Thank you! And yes, I couldn't let Thorin end the chapter being a bastard. XD

KillerKadoogan: Oh, the slap. It was cathartic for both Talaitha and me. ;) And thank you! I've noticed that when Thorin's hurt, afraid, or generally off-balance, he lashes out first, then tries for a kinder approach (e.g. Bilbo on the Carrock, snapping at Kili for laughing about orcs, etc). So I felt it was Talaitha's turn, mean as it seems.

On a completely unrelated note, you know Ben Browder?! From _Farscape_ or _SG-1_? He's my absolute favorite sci-fi actor and one of my all-time favorite actors, and I got to meet him. :) The convention was generally rather fantastic-I met Claudia Black, Gigi Edgely, and John Barrowman, too. XD

mamkm: I'm glad you're hooked! :)

MoonCrown: Thank you. :D

3insteinComplex: Thank you. :) Looking back on it, I kind of like feuding!Talarin. Uh-oh.

Ms. Fairweather: Oh, I swooned aplenty! I'm surprised I made it back in one piece. XD One of the days, I wore a shirt that said "Yes. No. Bite me" (a quote from _Farscape_), and Barrowman looked at it and asked, "Is that an invitation?" His panel was fantastic, too.

LianaDare8: I'm sorry! No makeout sessions yet, but there's definite fluff coming up. :)

**In this chapter**:

1. Have you seen the live preview of _Desolation of Smaug_? If you haven't, we get a first glimpse of Thorin and Thranduil's interaction. No dialogue (none that's discernible, at least), so I combined that preview scene with the book scene.

2. I know the book doesn't include Legolas, but I like him, and he _was_ around somewhere when the dwarves were captured. I omitted Tauriel, though. For now, at least. We'll see.

3. Fluff! And another sickly sweet last line.

4. And most importantly, Thranduil calls our heroine "Gwinelloth." It's the literal Sindarin translation of the Hungarian"borvirág" (borage), which word-for-word means "wine-flower." Thus, "gwin" means "wine" and "elloth" means "flower."

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: Talaitha has forgiven me, so I once again own her. For now.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Sustenance of the Soul**

A pallid morning dawned as Talaitha awoke from the venom-induced sleep. The first sensation she experienced was an intense nausea, followed by disgust when she felt the sticky webbing around her. She was so tightly wrapped that she could barely breathe, let alone reach into her belt for her daggers to cut the bindings. So she hung, trying to suppress her panic and the urge to vomit, hoping that Bilbo had not suffered the same fate.

As luck would have it, he had not. A sudden commotion below alerted her to the hobbit's presence, though she did not yet know it was him. Bilbo had invisibly entered the clearing in which she and the dwarves were suspended and drew away the spiders long enough for him to climb up the tree to free the Company. He started with Fili, as he was nearest, then wriggled further along the branch, while the dwarf freed his comrades on the opposite branch.

Talaitha felt a shaking, and suddenly, the tip of a blade appeared through the webbing, cutting a hole large enough for her to fit through. As she emerged, she saw her rescuer.

"Bilbo!" she croaked then coughed, wincing at how dry her throat was from disuse and thirst.

The hobbit helped her onto the branch, looking behind him to make sure she didn't fall off it. Still disoriented from the spider venom, Talaitha nearly did twice but managed to crawl to the trunk. She was climbing down slowly, her arms shaking from the effort, when she felt large, strong hands lift her to the ground. She looked up at the dwarf.

It was Thorin, and he caught her as she stumbled on uncertain legs. "Easy now."

"Thank you," said Talaitha, her voice still rough. She walked a few feet, then vomited into the bushes. Thorin rubbed her back soothingly, and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment when she realized she was the only one who'd become sick.

The dwarf king seemed to sense her thoughts, for he tilted up her chin so that their gazes met. "You are much smaller, and that is nothing to be ashamed about." He placed a soft kiss upon her forehead before leaving to help free the remaining dwarves.

Although they didn't react as violently to the spider venom as Talaitha had, they, too, felt sore and unsteady-a fact which didn't bode well when the spiders returned. They chattered angrily and charged the dwarves, who fought back as well as their current state allowed. Thorin tried to keep the spiders away from Talaitha, but a particularly large one was skittering towards her.

The fairy stood, clutching Ezüstlélek's hilt like it was a lifeline, and slashed warningly; the spider paused long enough for Thorin to hack into its abdomen from behind. A thick, greenish-yellow fluid seeped from the wound, and the spider turned on the dwarf, but he drove Orcrist into one of its eyes before it could harm him. With a shriek, the spider crumpled to the ground.

But there were many more to take their fallen kin's place, so many that the dwarves couldn't hope to defeat them all. While Thorin desperately racked his mind for a plan, the dwarves huddled near him. In the end, it was Bilbo who thought of a solution.

"I'm going to disappear and draw off the spiders," he said quickly. "Run in the opposite direction, to the left, where we last saw the elf fires."

Talaitha's eyebrows rose skeptically, mirroring the dwarves' reactions. "You're going to disappear?"

"I don't have time to explain now. Go!" And then the hobbit vanished, like he'd said he would.

Thorin pulled Talaitha to her feet and snaked an arm around her waist to keep her steady while they ran. They reached the site of the last elf fire, where the few spiders who'd followed them instead of the invisible hobbit didn't dare go.

After waiting for nearly half an hour, Talaitha grew worried that the spiders had caught Bilbo. As she was about to voice her concerns, the hobbit appeared in the center of the clearing. By now, the effects of the venom had worn off enough that Talaitha could jump to her feet and hug her friend without dizziness.

"You're wonderful, do you know that?"

Bilbo looked down at his feet, shrugging nonchalantly. "It was nothing."

"It was something," said Thorin with a smile, placing a hand on the hobbit's shoulder and squeezing it in thanks.

The rest of the dwarves gathered around, wanting to know how he'd disappeared. Bilbo looked hesitant, then resigned. With a sigh, he sat down in the grass and told them his tale.

"While you were taken by the goblins, I'd fallen into a little cave, where I met a gangly, ugly creature who might've once been a hobbit. No idea what his name was, but he kept rasping something that sounded like 'gollum,' so I'll call him that. And he seemed to be talking to himself."

"What makes you think he was a hobbit?" Talaitha asked. She was sitting against a tree, idly pulling bits of spider web from her hair.

"He was about the right height and had large feet and pointed ears," Bilbo replied. "He dropped this." The hobbit opened his hand palm-side up. In the middle, sat a gold ring. "When I put it on, it makes me invisible." He demonstrated.

Talaitha's brow furrowed, and the fingers that had been combing through her hair stilled. Something wasn't right about that ring. Although it looked like an ordinary gold ring, she felt a power emanating from it, but whether it was sinister or not, she couldn't fathom.

Thorin noticed the change in her demeanor and looked at her with curious eyes, but she merely shook her head and smiled. There was no point in needlessly worrying him, for she couldn't sense anything immediately threatening about the ring. However, when she next saw Gandalf, she would ask him about it.

"We played a game of riddles. If I won, he'd lead me out of the caves. If he won, he'd eat me."

Talaitha chided the hobbit for making such a foolish deal, while the dwarves chuckled.

"I obviously had no intention of letting him win!" Bilbo said hotly. "Anyway, I'd won the game fairly, but Gollum attacked me, and while I was fleeing him, that's when I saw all of you running out of the mountain."

"That's why you seemed to appear out of nowhere," said Fili.

"Because you were wearing the ring," his brother concluded.

The hobbit nodded, glancing at Thorin as he remembered the dwarf's lack of faith in him. But instead of being angry, he felt relieved that the dwarves believed his story and now seemed to view him with more respect.

"It appears Mr. Baggins is finally becoming our burglar," Balin said with a wink.

The dwarves thumped Bilbo on the back amid a chorus of cheers. Talaitha smiled fondly at the hobbit's astonished face; it wore the same expression as when Thorin embraced him on the Carrock.

The dwarf king met Talaitha's gaze and nodded. She had predicted that this would happen, that Bilbo would grow into the burglar the Company needed. Her faith in others, in the hobbit particularly, had seemed odd and even foolish to him when he'd first met her. But now it was refreshing, and he felt a bit of it trickling to him, chasing away some of his suspicions.

He was changing as a result of his interactions with the fairy. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

#

The Company's elation at escaping the spiders was quickly doused when they couldn't find the path. They'd been trudging in what they believed was the right direction but had yet to spy anything familiar, and they feared they were horribly lost.

To make matters worse, they were now so thirsty that they could barely swallow. They were becoming disoriented, and their heads throbbed with every step. Talaitha knew they'd die of dehydration in less than a day if they didn't find water.

Suddenly, elves leapt from the trees, and over a dozen arrows were aimed at them. The dwarves drew their weapons, but Talaitha held up her hands to show she was no threat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bilbo hide behind Thorin and vanish, before a familiar blond elf approached them.

"And what are _dwarves_ doing in these parts?" the elf asked coldly, glancing at each of the Company for an answer. When his cerulean eyes passed over the fairy, they widened. "Talaitha!"

She walked forward, but Thorin grabbed her arm. "No," he hissed.

Talaitha watched calmly as Legolas aimed an arrow at the dwarf's chest. "Perhaps you should let me go."

Thorin cursed in Khuzdul but released her, his stormy gaze never leaving the blond elf. It hardened when Talaitha touched the elf's arm.

"Legolas, these dwarves come in peace," she said softly. "We're hungry, thirsty, and lost."

The elf glanced at her but didn't lower his bow. "You, melonin, are welcome, of course, but we do not take kindly to strangers." His tone was harsh again as he met Thorin's furious glare. "Especially not dwarves."

Thorin looked like he wanted nothing more than to strangle Legolas, but he managed to restrain himself. However, Talaitha-and the elves-saw his hand twitch on Orcrist's hilt.

"Is it not enough reassurance that I travel with them?" she asked, her green eyes imploring the elf.

Legolas sighed and finally lowered his bow, motioning for the other elves to do the same. At Talaitha's nod, the dwarves reluctantly relaxed their hold on their weapons, though they didn't put them down.

"You know their fate is not mine to decree," said Legolas. "They must be taken before the king. Blindfold them."

Talaitha worried her lower lip, knowing how the dwarves would react. "Is that really necessary? This forest has become so strange that I doubt they'd find their way back."

"I cannot take any chances." Legolas' reply was brusque as he approached Thorin, who raised his sword.

"Thorin, don't," she pleaded, eyes wide. "I promise none of you will be hurt."

She looked pointedly at Legolas, who nodded and said, "Provided you come peacefully."

The dwarf king realized he had little choice. Even if the Company managed to get in a few swings, the elves' arrows would strike them down before they could cause any harm. And so, when Legolas tied a black cloth around his eyes, he didn't fight it, though every muscle in his body screamed at him to. The other dwarves followed his lead with equal displeasure.

Legolas turned to Talaitha, a smirk on his lips. "Do I need to blindfold you?"

"No," she grumbled, walking beside him as the elves led the dwarves through the forest. She wondered if Bilbo was trailing them, and hoped that he'd remain as invisible to the elves' ears as he was to their eyes.

They crossed a bridge that spanned a dark and fast-flowing river, then passed through large, metal gates that guarded the mouth of a cave. Talaitha stared at the steep, tree-covered slope in surprise. Elves who lived underground? That was unheard of.

"You've moved," she quipped.

Legolas nodded, his face grim. "When the Green Wood became sick, it was no longer safe to be so unprotected."

She knew he meant it was no longer safe to be out in the open, with only trees as cover. The cave was ideal because the spiders couldn't fit into it. Yet for all its practicality, she couldn't imagine the elves actually _enjoyed_ living underground.

Then they entered the cave, and Talaitha noticed it didn't really feel like they were underground. The passages twisted, crossed, and echoed, but they were brightly lit with torches, and the air was clean and fresh. If she didn't know better, she'd think they'd exited Mirkwood, for even the surrounding rock walls were less oppressive than that foul forest.

"Which dwarf is the leader?" asked Legolas, halting at a fork in the path.

Talaitha pointed to Thorin. Legolas ushered her and the blindfolded dwarf king down the right path, while the other elves led the rest of dwarves down the left. She wanted to ask where they were being taken, but she feared her question would rile Thorin, and he was edgy enough as it was.

The trio entered through great stone doors into a hall with pillars hewn from the rock surrounding them. Candles and torches bathed the room with warmth and light, centering on the ornate, wooden throne. A solemn, regal elf, wearing a crown of red leaves, sat upon it. Thranduil.

"You found them, then," the elf king remarked. "Remove the dwarf's blindfold."

Legolas did, and when Thorin's eyes had adjusted to the sudden light, he stared at Thranduil with unabashed hatred. The elf king met his glare stoically, though Talaitha knew he, too, was displeased. During her stays with the wood elves, before the forest had turned dark, Thranduil blamed the dwarves' obsession with treasure for bringing Smaug to Erebor.

The elf king was first to break the tense silence. "Thorin, son of Thráin, how long it has been."

"You mean since you betrayed my people?" the dwarf king spat.

Thranduil's gaze was icy as he replied. "I warned your grandfather about his lust for gold and jewels. Erebor's destruction is no one's fault but his own."

Talaitha gasped as Thorin drew Orcrist, even while over a dozen arrows were aimed at his chest. She could almost feel the fury radiating from him, and for a few, awful seconds, she thought he would attack Thranduil. Then he lowered his blade but not his gaze from the elf king.

"Where are my kin?"

"They have been taken to the dungeons," Thranduil said lightly. "Fear not, they are and shall remained unharmed."

"I am to trust an elf's word?" the dwarf king growled. "The elf who pledged his alliance to my grandfather, then left us to the dragon?"

"And what help did the dwarves offer when Sauron terrorized Middle-earth? _None_. They hid in their mountains!"

Thorin gripped Orcrist's hilt so tightly that his knuckles were white, but he held back, though with difficulty. Talaitha decided to step in, as the dwarf and elf's rehashing of old conflicts was neither productive nor wise.

"My lord," she said, standing before Thranduil and bowing her head. "We have not come to argue."

The elf king's gaze shifted to the fairy, and though it softened slightly, some distrust remained. "Talaitha Gwinelloth, if not to argue, then why have you come to Mirkwood?"

Talaitha glanced at Thorin, saw his blue eyes glint with a warning to keep the quest secret. Since she couldn't think of a convincing lie as to why the dwarves were in the forest, she chose to omit them completely from her reply. Thorin would think of something, she hoped.

"I'm traveling to Rhun, and Mirkwood seemed the quickest route there." Her tone became sufficiently somber. "I hadn't realized how much the Green Wood had deteriorated. I don't recognize the forest anymore, which is why we got lost."

A wave of dizziness overtook her, and she leaned against a pillar to steady herself. Both Legolas and Thorin stepped forward to help her, then sprang apart when their hands touched. Thranduil's brow furrowed slightly, then he nodded to the elf standing by the door.

Minutes later, he returned with a pitcher of water and three goblets, which he filled and handed to Legolas, Thorin, and Talaitha. She drank greedily, not even noticing that Thorin had sniffed the water before taking a sip. He was thirsty but not enough to risk being enchanted or poisoned. His suspicions were somewhat eased by the fact that both Legolas and Talaitha drank the same water; surely Thranduil wouldn't harm his own son, or the fairy who his son seemed fond of. When he didn't feel any adverse effects, he grudgingly accepted a refill, for his throat was still painfully dry.

"Now you will answer my questions, dwarf," Thranduil commanded. "Why did your folk spy on my people?"

"We weren't spying," Thorin said flatly. "We hoped for food and drink."

"What is your purpose in Mirkwood?"

"To find food and drink, because we were starving and thirsty."

The elf king was growing impatient. "You lie," he said, his voice sharp as the blade that hung at his hip. "What is your purpose in Mirkwood?"

Thorin set his jaw and glared at the elf. When Thranduil leapt from his throne and advanced on him in two long strides, he held his ground, meeting the taller king's gaze.

"You have one final chance to answer my question," Thranduil said darkly.

Thorin remained silent. Talaitha cursed his obstinacy, for it had just sealed his and his kin's lodgings in the dungeons.

"Take him away!"

Five elves stepped forward to take Orcrist and bind Thorin's wrists, but the dwarf fought back, despite Talaitha's frantic urging not to. More elves came to replace the ones Thorin had beaten, until they'd restrained him. He was bruised and sported a cut lip, but he was in better shape than one of the elves he'd brought down, who was lying unconscious on the floor.

Thranduil regarded Thorin with a frown. "You and your kin will remain in the dungeons until you tell me why you're in my realm or until you perish." His voice was soft but dangerous, leaving no doubt of his sincerity in either Talaitha's or Thorin's mind.

The fairy watched helplessly, held back by Legolas, as a small army of elves escorted Thorin none-too-gently to the dungeons deep within the cave. Before he turned the corner, the dwarf king looked at Talaitha, possibly for the last time, and his heart ached at the distress on her face.

He burned her green eyes-wide with worry-and fiery hair, her soft lips and the feel of her hand in his to memory, for they would be his soul's sustenance for the duration of his imprisonment.

And perhaps for the rest of his life.


	16. Chapter 16: Elf Friends

Hello, friends!

I'm early, according to USA time at least. Here it's already Sunday, but as long as it's still Saturday _somewhere_, I'm good. :)

I'm also sick, but I had a truly wondrous time in London. I did it all-culture, food, fun, and geekdom. I also saw the play "Peter and Alice," which was _amazing_. The cherry on top of the perfect cake was getting to meet Ben Whishaw afterward, who is probably my favorite actor. I'm still on Cloud 9.

Thanks bunches for your continued response to this story. Hugs for everyone! (Don't worry, I'm past the contagious stage.)

3insteinComplex: *gives you extra hugs*

KillerKadoogan: Legolas was such fun to write in this chapter, so I hope you like his portrayal! I'd love nothing more than to write flirty Legolas+Talaitha, but I fear the height difference between them borders on the ridiculous. Thus, I've left them as friends. XD The verbal sparring between Thranduil and Thorin was adapted from the book, actually, because yeah, the dwarf's stubbornness is indeed priceless. I think it will be in the next movie, or some variation of it, from the preview I saw. Speaking of which, it was a live preview that Peter Jackson did like a week or so after the release of the DVD. I'll look for a link, maybe someone's ULed it.

Guest: Thank you. :) There's more poor Thorin ahead!

Abyss Prime: You know what they say...the darkest hour is just before dawn. *runs*

loveorpain: Yes, poor love indeed. :( I had such Thorin feels after I made him get beat up. But hey, he took out an elf, too!

An Echo In Time: Legolas' inclusion was practically mandatory, as far as I'm concerned. :)

Just4Me: Awkward situation indeed. One which I'm actually sort of dreading writing...

LianaDare8: Updated!

**In this chapter:**

1. No Thorin till the end. Sorry. He needed to stew in the dungeons alone for a while. And I needed a break from him, because although I adore him, he's tiring to write without going out of character.

2. Lots of Legolas.

3. I tried to write Thranduil as mix between the book and how I imagine Lee Pace is going to portray him. And I also tried not to let my dislike of him be too apparent, because he _has_ done a lot for his people and for Middle-earth, really. So I hope the balance is there, and that I've managed to show _why_ he's so untrusting and nosy about Thorin's business.

4. One of my favorite realms in Middle-earth is Mirkwood, so I really enjoyed giving it my own little twist, as I don't think Tolkien went into _huge_ detail about its demise? If he did, I just haven't read it. *shrugs*

I think that's it. So yeah, enjoy!

[Insert customary disclaimer here]

* * *

** Chapter 16: Elf Friends**

After Thorin was taken away, Thranduil turned to Talaitha with renewed suspicion. "Dwarves seem unlikely traveling companions for a szelemér healer."

"Perhaps," she agreed. "But as you just witnessed, they are skilled warriors. Thus, I thought it prudent to join them after I met them on the East-West Road."

_Well, that's only half a lie_, she thought wryly. _After all, Hobbiton is _near_ the road._

"What is their destination?"

Talaitha shrugged. "They never told me, and I never asked. You know how secretive dwarves are, your Highness."

This was more of a lie, but if she told Thranduil the truth, Thorin might murder her when he got out-yes, _when_, not if, for she was determined to think of a way to rescue the dwarves.

"Surely they aren't traveling to Rhun," Thranduil said sarcastically, earning a small smirk from the elves. "Erebor is more likely."

She tried not to show her alarm, as the elf king was watching her closely for a reaction. Raising her eyebrows in surprise, she replied, "For what purpose? Thirteen dwarves cannot hope to defeat the dragon that dwells inside."

Once again, that wasn't a complete lie, for it _had_ been on her mind since the quest began-how on Middle-earth fifteen would overtake Smaug. And when she'd asked Thorin, he'd glared at her, as if he didn't know either and was angry to be reminded of the fact.

"Thorin may have an army marching to Erebor," Legolas suggested, leaning against a pillar.

Talaitha sat down in a chair near Thranduil's throne. Though she'd quenched her thirst for now, she still felt weak from hunger and was slightly unsteady on her feet.

"I doubt an army of dwarves could march to Erebor without attracting attention," she said. "You'd have received reports of such a sight."

The elf king regarded her with a pensive expression, as though he were trying to ascertain the truth in her words, before he nodded curtly.

"Join us for our evening meal and tell us of your recent travels." He stood and beckoned one of the servants. "Show Talaitha to her room."

The elf led her through twisting tunnels, up a spiral staircase to the higher levels of the cave, and to a large, wooden door, beyond which was a spacious room and bathroom.

"I will have clothes brought for you if you wish to bathe," said the elf, his gaze lingering on her tangled hair, still sticky with bits of spider web.

"Thank you," Talaitha replied tersely. She didn't appreciate his scrutiny, for she was well aware how dirty and ragged she must have looked. For that reason, she avoided the mirror on her way to the bathroom.

She was just about to disrobe, when Bilbo appeared in the bedroom. Talaitha gasped and jumped in surprised. "Damn it, Bilbo, warn me next time!"

"Sorry. I guess I haven't quite got the hang of being invisible yet," he said, looking sheepish.

"No, you do that part fine." Talaitha smirked. "It's the being visible part that needs work."

Bilbo scowled. "Oh, hilarious. I should just leave you and the dwarves to the elves' mercy."

That got Talaitha's attention but not for the reason the hobbit had intended. "You know a way out?"

He shook his head. "But I can find one, maybe follow the elves when they leave the cave and bring the dwarves food in the dungeons."

Talaitha sat on the floor, for she didn't want to soil the fine furniture with her muddy, sticky clothes.

"It has to be out of the way, preferably near the dungeons," she mused aloud. "Although _you_ can disappear, thirteen bulky dwarves cannot, so they can't go through the tunnels to the entrance."

"When the elf comes back with your clothes, I'll follow him out and get the lay of the land, as it were."

Talaitha didn't get a chance to reply, for a knock sounded on the door. Bilbo slid on the ring and disappeared just as Talaitha invited the elf inside. He placed a stack of clothes-breeches, blouses, and gowns-onto her bed and told her he would return in an hour to take her to the dining room.

When she was sure Bilbo was gone, after calling out to him and receiving no reply, she undressed and ran a bath, allowing herself to fully relax in the hot water for the first time since leaving Beorn's house.

#

"You were not entirely truthful earlier," Legolas murmured as he sat down beside Talaitha at the table.

The fairy quirked an eyebrow and took a sip of wine. She appeared calm, but Legolas' comment had made her nervous.

"Oh?"

"Dwarves are secretive, as you mentioned, yet they allowed you to travel with them to their mysterious destination."

"I was going to Rhun, which, as your father pointed out, was probably not where _they_ were going," Talaitha replied easily, albeit with some help from the elf wine. "And I suppose they thought my skills as a healer outweighed the risk of my company."

The elf prince was silent for a moment, sipping his own wine. He seemed to believe _that_ part, at least, but she saw lingering uncertainty in his eyes. She knew what his question was going to be before he even voiced it.

"And your relationship with the dwarf king?"

Talaitha shrugged, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, despite the ache in her chest when she thought about Thorin-angry and bruised-in the dungeons.

"He and I aided each other during our travels," she replied. "In fact, I have come to respect all the dwarves and would not wish to see them harmed."

"I do not understand you, Talaitha," Legolas said, shaking his head. "Dwarves are unbearable and greedy, yet you treat them as friends."

The szelemér girl bristled at that but managed to keep her composure. "I know how the stories describe them," she said, her voice tinged with the slightest bite. "But I have yet to witness their greed. They can be obdurate, yes, but they also defended me when the giant spiders attacked us."

Well, _Thorin_ had defended her, but that was a technicality Legolas need not know. And she hoped the mention of a recent part of their journey would distract him from learning the dwarves' true motive.

The elf prince smirked. "Yes, I saw the web in your hair." Then he grew somber, his lips forming a thin line. "They are growing ever bolder. Even our influence will no longer be enough to keep them at bay, which is why Father moved us into this cave."

Talaitha was relieved for the change of subject, even if the topic of the Green Wood's demise saddened her. She'd spent many years visiting the wood elves.

"I remember how the forest glowed in the afternoon sunlight, how the leaves glimmered after a light rain."

Legolas' eyes shone with the memories...and with anger. "It was the greatest forest in Middle-earth," he said. "And now we are reduced to cowering underground while our home festers and rots."

"Mithrandir believes the darkness is caused by evil from Dol Guldur," said Talaitha, placing a hand on Legolas' arm to calm him. "A familiar evil."

His cerulean gaze met hers, his expression grim though devoid of its previous anger. "There was a council in Imladris, according to our messengers. Lady Galadriel deems the threat to be real, but Saruman the White dismisses it."

Talaitha was surprised; surely a great wizard like Saruman would take the news more seriously, especially since he was sent to Middle-earth to prevent another Melkior and Sauron. Then again, the White Wizard _was_ always haughty and unwilling to take others' advice, from Gandalf's stories, at least.

"I'm inclined to believe Galadriel," she said, choosing her words carefully. She bore Saruman no love, but she couldn't show it to Legolas. "She's been around for a while, after all."

The elf prince regarded her with amusement, one eyebrow raised. "That is an understatement, melonin."

She grinned, before finally turning her attention to the plateful of food in front of her. In her anxiety to not divulge Thorin's secret, she'd forgotten how hungry she'd been, but now her stomach grumbled as a reminder.

Legolas chuckled softly, and he, too, began eating. The rest of the evening passed pleasantly; Talaitha spoke to many of the elves she'd befriended, and she returned to her room delightfully sated.

However, her happiness abated when she laid down on the soft bed. The dwarves were sleeping on dirty, hard floors in a dank dungeon. And she had no idea where Bilbo was; for all she knew, he could have gotten caught or lost wandering the endless passageways.

Talaitha sighed. She would get little sleep tonight, despite the comfort of her room and bed.

#

The next morning, Talaitha awoke to a halfhearted knock on her door. Thinking it one of the elves, she opened the door...and saw nothing. But she felt a tug on the sleeve of her dressing gown.

"Bilbo Baggins," she hissed, moving inside her room to grant the invisible hobbit entry. Or she assumed he entered.

Seconds later, he appeared by the reclining chair. He looked tired, as though he hadn't slept much better than she had. He clambered onto the chair and looked so small on it that Talaitha had to feign a yawn to hide her amusement.

"These blasted caves are more confusing than the goblin tunnels," he complained. "I got lost and had to sleep in the armory."

"Did you find the dwarves?" she asked, sitting beside him. It occurred to her that she must've looked equally small on the furniture.

Bilbo nodded. "They're not far from the armory."

"Did you talk to them?"

"Of course I did," the hobbit replied, no hint of sarcasm in his tone...yet. "Because the elf guards wouldn't think a disembodied voice strange."

"Alright, no need to get snippy." Talaitha fell silent, thinking of a way to distract the guards so Bilbo could sneak in and speak to the dwarves. In the end, the only solution seemed to be to persuade Legolas to allow her into the dungeons. That way, she and Bilbo might be able to converse privately with the dwarves.

"I'm friends with the elf prince," she said. "If he'll take me into the dungeons, the guards might leave us alone with the Company for a while."

The hobbit shrugged. "Well, it's worth a try." Before he could say anything else, his stomach rumbled loudly, which caused his cheeks to flush pink.

"Have you even eaten?" Talaitha asked, her brows furrowed in concern.

"A bit. I stole some bread from the kitchens before dinner."

She smirked. "You've become a fine burglar."

"Oh hush. I had to," he huffed. "I certainly won't be making a habit of it."

"Except to steal the dwarves' treasure from the dragon."

Bilbo shot her a disgruntled look as his stomach protested again.

"I'll bring breakfast," she said, walking into the bathroom to change into a simple, forest green gown. "Stay here, and if anyone comes in, put on the ring. Your invisibility is probably the dwarves' only chance of escape."

She went downstairs and only got lost twice trying to find the kitchens. The cooks and maids loaded up a tray with breads, cakes, honey, jams, milk, and water, eyeing her curiously at the amount of food she requested.

"There wasn't much to eat in the forest," Talaitha explained sheepishly, and the elves immediately placed another plate of cakes onto the tray. They knew well how unwelcoming Mirkwood was.

When she returned to her room, it was empty, until Bilbo saw it was her. They ate breakfast in a comfortable silence, each lost in his or her own thoughts. Bilbo was wondering where to sleep that night, while Talaitha fretted about Thorin. Had he gotten into another fight with the guards? Was he near his kin? Were they given enough food and water?

Talaitha was so engrossed in her musings that she only realized Bilbo was speaking to her when he waved his hand in front of her face.

"Sorry. What were you saying?"

"I asked if I could sleep in here," said the hobbit. "This chair is almost like a bed."

"Yes, of course," Talaitha said. "There's an extra blanket in the wardrobe."

Bilbo regarded her with a knowing expression. "You worry about Thorin."

"I worry about them _all_," she corrected firmly. "Being imprisoned by the elves who broke their allegiance to them is probably one of their worst nightmares."

"True, but the elves aren't like trolls or goblins," said Bilbo, trying to reassure Talaitha. "I'm sure they're treating our friends civilly."

"If they really wanted to be civil, they'd let them go," she murmured, then sprang up to fix her hair into a fishtail braid. "Put on the ring and follow me. We're going to find Legolas."

#

It took Bilbo and Talaitha nearly an hour to locate the elf prince, but finally they ran into him on his way back from a patrol. His golden hair, which was usually neater than Talaitha's, was as mussed as she'd ever seen it.

"Spiders?" she quipped.

"They ambushed us," Legolas replied sourly. "Three of my men were badly wounded, so badly that they may not survive."

Talaitha saw her opportunity and sprang. "Take me to them. The only thing I ask for in return is that you allow me to see the dwarves."

The elf regarded her dubiously but could not deny that the szelemér girl's unique ability might be his men's only chance; it would sustain them just enough to allow them to heal.

"Very well," he said, beckoning her to follow.

Talaitha glanced behind her and felt Bilbo touch her hand briefly to assure her he was still there. When she entered the healing ward, she cringed at the sight of the elves. One of them had a compound fracture to his thigh bone and probably serious internal injuries as well. Another had been bitten repeatedly, but she knew he'd been injected with enough venom to kill, rather than to put to sleep, like she and the dwarves had been. And the third was in the worst shape, for he had a deep and large wound on his side.

Legolas saw her attention linger on the last elf. "He was thrown against a tree hard enough to snap a thick branch, which then caused the wound."

The hobbit's hand found hers once more, and she resisted the urge to squeeze it, for she knew he'd never seen such terrible injuries before. And truthfully, she wouldn't have minded the comfort either; although she was experienced with such sights, she didn't think she could ever become accustomed to them.

Without a word, she walked to the trio's beds and knelt at each of their sides, placing her hands on their chests. She shared her energy with them, giving the third elf a little extra, and watched them carefully for signs of improvement. Soon, their breathing evened out, and their pulses returned to normal.

She moved away to allow the healers access, though she nearly stumbled from dizziness. It seemed she hadn't fully recovered from her dehydration and nutritional deprivation in Mirkwood. Legolas saw the fleeting disorientation on her face and took her arm as they exited the ward.

"You should not have done that," he chided gently.

She waved away his concern with a smile. "My gift is pointless if it is not used."

"Yes, but you forget that I, unlike most, know what that ability costs you when you use it." Talaitha looked up at him when he fell silent and was surprised by the guilt she saw in his eyes. "Especially when you do not possess your full strength either."

Legolas spoke the truth, but Talaitha knew better than anyone the limits of her ability, and though what she'd done in the healing ward did indeed affect her more than it should have, it still did not affect her _enough_.

"I appreciate your concern," she said, giving his hand a squeeze before moving away from him. "But I am fine."

The elf prince watched her for a few seconds, then called to the guard on the other side of the dungeon door through the small window. "She wishes to speak to the prisoners."

The guard looked like he was about to protest, but Legolas headed him off. "She's acquainted with them, so I doubt she is in any danger."

He turned to Talaitha as the door was unlocked. "You have half an hour."

"Thank you." She smiled gratefully and entered the dungeons.

The first thing she saw was Thorin's glare, which was colder than the chilly prison. Suddenly she wished she'd stayed in her clean, warm room, where no one glowered at her. And to think, she'd actually worried about him! _Ungrateful dwarf._

With a sigh, she approached his cell and prepared herself for what she knew was going to be a trying conversation.


	17. Chapter 17: Captive Hearts

Hi!

This chapter was easier to write than most, so I managed to finish it early. :) Not much new since my last update-I'm all better and have just been enjoying Budapest, despite the chill and rain the past couple days.

As always, I thank you all for liking this story! *hugs*

KillerKadoogan: I enjoyed writing Laitha and Legolas' friendship, so I'm pleased you feel that way. :) I fear, however, that I was in such a good mood that Talarin's conversations aren't that trying after all. Oops...

LianaDare8: Things get sorted, all right.

Abyss Prime: Alas, it's a mild lashing. It was time for Thorin to man up.

Just4Me: Legolas is like a pretty, twinkling star. XD But Thranduil was surprisingly fun to write, once I got started.

**In this chapter:**

1. No Legolas. It seems I'm incapable of writing two hot characters at the same time. Bad me.

2. Snarky Bilbo. Boy, is he fun to write.

3. A few elvish outfits, images of which can be found on my profile.

4. Talarin bliss.

I have no clever disclaimer today. You know it by now anyway.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 17: Captive Hearts**

"How are you?" Talaitha asked meekly. She fidgeted nervously with her hands, before wrapping them around the cell's bars.

Thorin sat against the wall, unmoving. "I am in an elvish prison. How do you _think_ I am?"

Her gaze swept over him, taking in his cut lip that was beginning to heal, his tattered tunic that had once been royal blue, and the spider web still stuck in his hair. Yet even now, when he was disheveled and brought low, he exuded pride. She looked at the wooden plate, its contents untouched, and the empty cup beside it.

"Come here," she said softly, holding out a hand to him. When he didn't react, she added, "Please?"

Thorin briefly glanced at her, curiosity mingling with his anger, and did as she bade. He stood rigidly by the bars, his gaze fixed on a spot above her head. When she traced his lower lip with her finger, lingering on the cut, he bit back a groan; the digit was soft and gentle, reminding him of the feel of her lips on his. Her hands next moved to his hair, plucking the strands of web from it and combing through the tangles. The gesture was so comforting that he nearly sighed in bliss, but that almost-reaction was enough to sober him. He grasped her hands and pulled them away.

"I neither desire nor require your attentions," he spat. "Return to your beloved elves."

Talaitha wrenched her arms free, hurt flickering on her face, before her expression turned dark. "You are a fool," she hissed. "Bilbo and I came down here to tell you we are searching for a way to get you out."

The dwarf's eyes held doubt, until Bilbo, still invisible, joined them and said, "It's true. I can sneak through the caves, and Talaitha can get information."

Thorin's gaze flitted between the fairy and the area from which the hobbit's voice came. His anger lessened now that he knew they wouldn't just abandon him and his kin.

"The others are farther down the hall," he said to Bilbo, far more kindly than he'd spoken to Talaitha. "Tell them what you told me."

When he heard the others' voices mingling with the hobbit's, he looked at the fairy, his stormy gaze catching hers. "You and the elf prince..."

"Are just friends," she said, with a hint of impatience. "If we were anything more, do you really think I'd be here with you now?"

He watched her for a few seconds, his expression unreadable. Then, his eyes softened. "They are treating you well?"

"Better than you," she quipped, smiling slightly.

She was momentarily worried he would take offense to her double meaning, but he wrapped his hands around hers on the bars and allowed the corners of his lips to quirk into the barest of smiles. "Then that is all that matters."

And it was. As long as Talaitha was safe, he could bide his time in the dungeons. The elves provided more than enough food and water to survive until the fairy and hobbit thought of a way to break them free.

#

Over the next few days, Bilbo sneaked around the caves and followed hunting parties past the gates but could not find a suitable escape route for the dwarves. All the exits required them to traverse the passageways, which was impossible to do without getting caught. When he'd reported this to Thorin, the dwarf king was displeased.

"What good is that ring, then?" he hissed softly.

"I'm trying, Thorin, but it's not my fault this blasted cave seems impossible to break out of."

Bilbo continued to speak in whispers, but the dwarf barely listened. Talaitha's voice at the entrance to the dungeons distracted him. She'd arrived with Bilbo but stopped to talk to the guard, though what about, he didn't know. He wished she would hurry up; they only had half an hour together.

Thorin's heartbeat quickened slightly when she rounded the bend and smiled at him. He finally noticed Bilbo had stopped talking; in fact, he wasn't sure if the hobbit was even there anymore until he greeted Talaitha. Then, as became custom during the fairy's visits, he moved further into the dungeons to the others.

The dwarf king was grateful, for he was free to let down his guard. The quest to avenge his people and retake their home fueled him, but his time with Talaitha-brief though it was as of late-sustained him. A month ago, he would have staunchly denied that fact, but a month ago, he was a different dwarf.

As his gaze roved over her clothes, he couldn't resist the urge to touch her waist through the bars. She wore a simple, white dress with a soft, green and yellow underbust corset that accentuated her figure.

"This is quite unlike your brown one," he murmured, feeling the material beneath his fingers.

"Mine doubles as armor, whereas this is merely aesthetic."

Aesthetic indeed, for it hugged her curves more closely than did the leather corset. He wanted nothing more than to run his hands along her body, to remove the chemise-like dress and _feel_ her skin, but he contented himself with encircling her hips.

Talaitha stifled a surprised gasp as Thorin pulled her closer. "Is this wise?" she whispered, glancing down the hall, first toward the unseen elf guard, then at the dwarves.

"No," he replied, his voice low. "But for once, I do not care."

And he truly didn't. The guard had been instructed to give Talaitha half an hour of undisturbed time with the Company; this Thorin had learned during their first meeting. The dungeons were too dim for his men to see much of his and Talaitha's interactions, and he suspected that even if Bilbo saw, he would keep it quiet. Finally, to the elves' knowledge, there was no way the dwarves could escape, so there was little harm in them talking to her.

Besides, if he was going to be stuck in this dank cell, he was damn well going to enjoy every minute he and Talaitha had.

"Then you are not angry that I am friends with Lord Elrond and Legolas?" she asked hesitantly, shrinking away slightly in anticipation of his reply.

Thorin frowned at the movement. She was wary of him, and with good reason, he realized. He'd treated her terribly, all because he was jealous of her fondness for the elves and Beorn. He was disgusted with himself.

"I am not," he replied softly, taking her hands in his. "And I am sorry for my unforgivable behavior."

Talaitha smiled and squeezed his hands. "It was not unforgivable if I forgive you."

He smiled so widely and with such genuine happiness that Talaitha's heart soared. This was a side of Thorin Oakenshield few had seen, yet she-a simple healer from an obscure race-had been granted the opportunity. Not only granted, but responsible for.

"When I am free, I will thank you properly," he vowed, bringing her hands to his lips and placing a kiss on both. "But for now, what were you discussing with the guard for so long?"

While Thorin _had_ overcome his anger toward the fairy, he remained bitter that the elves, particularly the prince, spent so much time with her. But he didn't show this to Talaitha.

"There is to be a banquet a week hence to celebrate autumn," she replied. "Legolas invited me earlier. Most of the elves will be there, including your guard, so the caves will be as deserted as ever. If you are to escape, it must be on that night."

Thorin considered her words, his mouth set in a grim line. If they didn't leave the dungeons then, they probably never would, not before Durin's Day, at least.

"There will surely be another to take this guard's place," he thought aloud.

Talaitha smirked. "True, but I doubt his duty will deter him from celebrating a bit. And perhaps he may even grow careless if he would rather be at the banquet."

"Might make it easier for our burglar to filch his keys," said Thorin, amused.

"Bilbo's already panicking about that," Talaitha giggled quietly.

His own humor vanished when a troubling thought entered his mind.

"And you shall attend the festivities?"

A pang of jealousy shot through him at the prospect of Talaitha spending a night with elves, but he feigned nonchalance. He'd promised himself that he wouldn't subject her to his animosity toward the elves anymore, for she was not at fault for it. He would accept her friendships with them. Thorin briefly considered the significance of that decision, before he felt her hands leave his.

But they had only moved to his hair. His stomach flipped when he felt her twist a few strands together.

"I am," she replied, her gaze downcast as she worked. "It would be suspicious if I didn't, as I am a guest."

Thorin didn't dare nod, for fear of disrupting her ministrations. So he stood still, staring at her face, until she finished. When she had, he touched the new braids on each side, his hopes confirmed.

Her head finally rose, and she met his gaze, though he saw uncertainty in her green eyes. They both understood the meaning of her gesture, but Thorin had no way of reciprocating it in his current situation. When he was free, though... Then she would have no reason to doubt his feelings for her.

"I will not forget this," he said, his hand resting on her cheek.

He smiled as her eyes closed, and he felt her ever so slightly lean into his touch. He ghosted his hand down her neck, over her breasts and belly, until it rejoined the other on her hips. When he looked back up, her eyes were open and nearly black with desire; he was sure his were no different. Not for the first time, he cursed the bars, though with more vehemence than ever.

#

It was another couple days before Bilbo and Talaitha visited the dwarves again. She'd been preoccupied with learning all she could about the cave from Legolas, in the hopes that he'd let something useful slip. He hadn't, though when she commented during dinner that the wine tasted different, he told her it was from Lake Town. She had no idea where that was, so even if that bit of information _was _significant, she wouldn't have known it.

The hobbit, however, had encountered more luck. While on a routine scouting trip, he stumbled across a trap door leading into a storeroom of sorts. Barrels were stacked everywhere, but what made him gasp-and nearly give himself away-was the subterranean river that flowed from the cellar. He'd found the Company's escape route.

Bilbo immediately went off in search of Talaitha, for he needed her to enter the dungeons, but she wasn't anywhere in the cave. When she returned to her room in the evening, he was waiting for her.

"Fine day to be absent," he muttered.

"Well hello to you, too," said Talaitha. "You could have just sneaked food from the kitchens until supper."

Bilbo groaned impatiently. "I'm not irritable because I'm hungry. I'm irritable because I've been waiting all day to tell you _and_ the dwarves that I've found our way out."

"Truly?" she asked, eyes wide with surprise. "Where?"

Bilbo hopped off his chair-bed and slipped on the ring. "I'll tell you and Thorin together. I'd rather not have to repeat myself."

The fairy's eyebrows raised at his haughty tone, and she bit back a snicker; in his current cranky mood, she didn't think he'd appreciate her amusement at his expense. Instead, she followed him to the dungeons, garnering a curious glance from the guard when she let the invisible hobbit enter first. To the elf, however, it looked like she'd hesitated, and when she eventually did go through the gate, she did so cautiously to avoid bumping into Bilbo.

"Are you alone?" Thorin murmured as Talaitha approached his cell.

She shook her head and looked in front of her, but the hobbit was already by the bars.

"I know how to get you all out," Bilbo whispered. "There's a cellar that opens to an underground river. I think the elves use it to trade, because there are lots of barrels there."

Talaitha was beginning to understand the hobbit's plan, and from Thorin's skeptical expression, he was, too.

"You mean to stuff us into the barrels and send us down the river," the dwarf deadpanned.

Bilbo must have seen the amused glint in Thorin's eyes, for he audibly bristled. "If you have a better idea, please share it."

Talaitha intervened before an argument started. "It's a good plan. Most of the elves will be at the banquet, and I can distract the few who remain in the caves if they're in our path to the cellar."

Thorin was silent as he mulled over the arrangement. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of Talaitha drawing away the elves; she was putting herself at risk of incurring Thranduil's ire if they got caught and it was discovered she'd been secretly aiding them.

She seemed to know what he was thinking, for when he opened his mouth to protest, she silenced him with a glare. Ever since they'd met, Thorin had become increasingly more mild-mannered toward her, while Talaitha had become less patient with him, as if they'd swapped traits. The irony would have been amusing in normal circumstances, but now he just felt disgruntled. He'd been locked in this cell for a week now and had barely complained-even though whenever he thought about Thranduil, he seethed internally-, so she could've at least let him have his say.

But Thorin was nothing if not determined. "Bilbo, inform the others of your plan."

He waited until he heard the hobbit's voice at the end of the hall, then turned to Talaitha, regarding her with a quirked brow. She wore an almost infuriatingly smug smirk.

"You take pleasure in flouting my authority," he observed calmly. If it had been anyone else, except perhaps his nephews, they'd have received a much harsher response.

"I certainly do, my _king_." Her tone was teasing, though the affection in her eyes was unmistakable. "Would you prefer me to be meek and subservient?"

"No."

He didn't even have to think about it. Her spirit, especially towards _him_, was what had kept his attention after the mystery of her heritage was revealed. No, he wouldn't want a woman who was submissive...not _all_ the time, at least. He could think of a few occasions in which that appealed to him, but ultimately, he was a dwarf; he liked fire and rock. For the first time, he realized how well Talaitha's passion and resolve suited his own.

The szelemér girl smiled. "Good, because I wouldn't change anyway."

No, he knew she wouldn't. And he wouldn't have her any other way.

Thorin's hands grasped her waist and pulled her as close to him as the bars would allow. "Cheeky."

He looked at her properly, at the bronze-colored overcoat with golden elvish designs. "You were out riding."

Talaitha looked surprised as she replied, "How did you know?"

The dwarf smiled bitterly. "Do not forget that before Smaug took Erebor, I was quite familiar with the wood elves." Then his expression turned playful. "And you smell like horse."

"Just what every woman wants to hear." She gave him a light shove, which caused his lips to twitch into a small smile.

"You are beautiful," he whispered, running his fingers through her copper hair. He didn't even mind the characteristic wood elvish circlet of leaves and tiny berries she wore.

And when his fingers brushed over the pointed tips of her ears, he felt no trace of his previous contempt for them. She was _not_ an elf. She was something far more remarkable.


	18. Chapter 18: Barrels of Dwarves

Hello!

Been a while, hasn't it?

Yes, this is actually a chapter. Again, sorry for being tardy! But that won't happen again because my travels and guests are done for a while. Thank you for being patient and understanding!

Have you all seen the _Desolation of Smaug_ trailer yet? There's a severe lack of Thorin, but I'm really looking forward to Lee Pace's Thranduil; from what I've seen so far, it seems he does the character justice. He certainly _looks_ the part. XD Seriously, watch me end up actually _liking_ the bloody elf. Speaking of the trailer, I've decided to mix in some elements from it later on in the story starting next chapter.

Abyss Prime: Thank you. :) And yes, Thorin was a bit of a jackass. XD But I feel like his instinct is to react harshly, then soften.

Just4Me: Don't worry, grumpy Thorin is just on a bit of a hiatus. He'll be back. ;)

KillerKadoogan: Thank you for reviewing! *hugs* Talarin was the nickname (ship name?) another reviewer came up with. And the cell bars were a fun prop, I'll admit; they created such a delightful sexual tension. XD I've always liked the build-up better than the resolution.

LilliLabyrinth: Yay! Welcome to the dark side. Would you like lembas, biscuits, or ale? (Get it? Food/drink from 3 of the races in the story *giggles at bad joke*) But seriously, thank you. :) It's hard to keep Thorin balanced and in character. Although, sometimes he's a thorn in my side, too...

Kiley S. Snape: Thank you! :D

KayBeth13: Thank you muchly! :)

MugglebornPrincesa: *whistles innocently*

amcozy: Thank you. :)

3insteinComplex: Omg, all caps! Thank you. :) Snarky Bilbo is definitely a thing now. I love him. XD Also, I giggled for like 3 minutes at your "fly free, little ship!" That was cute lol.

Stormglass: He's my height, too! Short people unite. :)

kaia: Thank you. :)

westwingnut: Cranky Bilbo is probably the most fun thing to write since...flirty Kili. XD

LianaDare8: I swear you're a mind reader. o.o

Phew! Those are a lot of reviews, and I thank you for them. *hugs*

**In this chapter**:

1. Talaitha wears a pretty dress. Check my profile (the jasmine banquet dress).

2. Cell bars begone!

3. I enjoyed writingthis _way_ too much...

Hope you enjoy reading it!

**Disclaimer**: I only own Talaitha (and her silly mare, who's still MIA, oops), but I'm contemplating kidnapping Thorin and Legolas. Anyone want to join me?

* * *

**Chapter 18: Barrels of Dwarves**

The day of the feast arrived in a flurry of activity. Bilbo spent the morning dodging elves, who were moving long tables and chairs outside to the banquet site, but after nearly causing an accident in a passageway, he wisely opted to bide his time in Talaitha's room.

The fairy, on the other hand, avoided the cave altogether in favor of the stables. She missed Szélvész dearly. The memory of the first time Talaitha had glimpsed the mare in the grasslands outside Lelle popped into her mind. The fields were home to herds of wild horses, and Talaitha had seen many. But none of the horses had captivated her like Szélvész had. She was agile, intelligent, spirited, and swift, and Talaitha thought her black and white coat was strikingly and uniquely beautiful. The szelemér girl would sit in a tree every day and watch the herd, giggling whenever the mare nipped at the young stallions who wandered too close.

One day, the mare trotted over to Talaitha's tree, peered up at her, and snorted, as though scolding her for spying. It was then she noticed the mare had blue eyes, which were rare in dark-skinned horses. The unusual characteristic made Talaitha even more fond of her, and she suddenly had a desire to touch her. The fairy climbed lower as the horse watched her warily, ears halfway flattened. They remained like that-Talaitha crouched on the lowest branch, Szélvész eyeing her with just a hint of curiosity-, until the mare turned and galloped off just as unexpectedly as she'd arrived.

After that, the horse came to the tree every day, dropping her head down to graze on the soft grass. Sometimes Talaitha brought apples, which she offered to the mare. The fairy was content with their arrangement, though she still yearned to interact more closely with Szélvész. Then, three months after first spotting the herd, Szélvész greeted her with a nicker. Talaitha took that as a sign that she could touch her, so she climbed to the ground and slowly approached the horse, who waited calmly. She placed a hand on the mare's neck, while the other stroked her forehead. Szélvész allowed the szelemér girl to pet her for a few minutes, then took her dress sleeve between her teeth and tugging it forward. Talaitha laughed as the mare broke into a canter, beckoning her to follow with an impatient snort. So Talaitha did, and the two frolicked through the fields, sometimes chasing each other, sometimes ambling side-by-side, until dusk.

It wasn't long before Szélvész acquiesced to being ridden, though she practically bucked off the saddle Talaitha tried to buckle around her. The fairy was a competent horsewoman, but she'd rarely ridden bareback, a fact which she was painfully reminded of the next morning. Yet still she visited the horse, and still they rode together.

Those were some of the happiest and freest times Talaitha could remember, and just thinking about them unleashed a deluge of emotions ranging from joy to sorrow. She missed that spunky mare, missed her as one would miss one's kin. And as far as she was concerned, Szélvész _was_ kin; she hadn't abandoned her when they'd accidentally strayed too near a river spirit's home and the creature tried to lure Talaitha to her death. In fact, the mare had dragged her away to a safe distance, where the fairy could regain her senses. And when some of Lelle's residents wanted to capture Szélvész's herd, Talaitha stood beside the mare in opposition, until the king decreed that the herd should remain free.

A gentle nudge to her shoulder pulled the fairy from her thoughts. She chuckled at the grey stallion and ran her hands along his neck and sides, feeling the muscles flex beneath his almost metallic coat. This was Celebhith-Silvermist-, Legolas' steed. Though no horse could replace Szélvész, Celebhith and the other elvish mounts lessened the ache of separation.

"I thought I'd find you here," said Legolas, stroking the stallion's velvet-soft nose. Celebhith nickered happily at the attention.

"They are a comfort," she said, smiling, though her eyes held sadness. "Your plants are different. Your customs are different. Your languages are different. But horses are the same in Middle-earth and Nemere."

"Why do you not return home?" Legolas asked. Talaitha shifted but didn't reply. "It's because of the dwarves, isn't it? They hold you here."

Her hand stilled against Celebhith, and she felt suddenly anxious. Had he deciphered the Company's true purpose? Would he tell his father?

"Deny it if you wish, melonin, but I see your concern for the dwarf king." The elf turned to her, his expression grave. "I warn you not to become attached to him. Dwarves are not to be trusted."

Talaitha bristled at that. "What have they done that has so offended you?" Celebhith's ears perked at the slight edge in her voice. "Your people broke the alliance with them, not the other way around."

"It was an uncertain alliance at best," Legolas replied calmly, almost nonchalantly. "And the dwarves ignored our requests for help against Sauron. All of Middle-earth could have crumbled for all they cared."

"But that wasn't _these_ dwarves. You cannot ascribe the sins of their ancestors upon them."

"Perhaps not," the elf conceded. "Yet gold-lust is in a dwarf's nature. Do not be surprised if Thorin turns his attention to accumulating wealth."

That made Talaitha pause. She had heard stories of the gold sickness that befell some dwarves, particularly in the line of Durin. Thorin's grandfather had suffered from it, and his father might have, too, had Smaug not driven them from Erebor. Could Thorin become afflicted with it as well? She had to believe that even if he did, he would fight it, for stubbornness was also in a dwarf's nature, especially in Thorin's.

"This conversation is meaningless. I am merely his traveling companion," she said with finality. "Whatever concern you saw was that which would be directed at a friend in need."

A small smirk played upon Legolas' lips, making Talaitha want to stomp her foot like a petulant child. "Then my eyes must have been cheated by a spell."

And that was the end of it. They went their separate ways, Talaitha to her room to prepare for the banquet and Legolas to take council with his father about the most recent patrol through Mirkwood. The hobbit was nowhere to be found, which suited Talaitha, for she could bathe and dress in peace.

As she was braiding her hair into an elaborate bun, the door opened, as though the wind had pushed it. Talaitha knew better.

"And where have you been? I thought you were staying here after having too many near-collisions in the passageways."

Bilbo took off the ring, appearing beside her. "I was walking the path from the dungeon to the cellar one last time before tonight."

"Was it crowded?"

"Only in the cellar and in the tunnels leading to it from the kitchen. The elves sure are fond of wine."

"So everything is set?"

Bilbo nodded. "On my end. But how will the dwarves get past the guard?"

"You just leave that to me," said Talaitha, smirking.

She finished the braided bun and slipped on a gold circlet. It was characteristically wood elvish with a design of tree branches and dark green crystals.

The hobbit smiled at her. "You look like an elf," he said. "But somehow I doubt Thorin will mind much."

"Oh, hush," she snapped lightly, tired of the insinuations regarding her and the dwarf king. If Gandalf were here, he'd join in with Legolas and Bilbo; in fact, he'd probably be the most vocal of the three, if his behavior in Bag End was any indication.

"Alright, alright." Bilbo held up his hands in a truce. "What are you going to do until the banquet?"

Talaitha grinned. "Prepare the guard's distraction."

#

An hour later, the fairy and invisible hobbit arrived at the dungeon. On a chair by the door slept the guard, a half-empty pitcher of wine beside him on the table. When Talaitha leaned forward towards him, Bilbo grabbed her arm.

"What are you doing?" he hissed softly.

"Making sure he's completely out." She snapped her fingers in front of his face, then gave his shoulder a nudge. The elf didn't react. "Take his keys and free the dwarves. I'll go on ahead."

Before Bilbo could ask what she'd done to the guard, she'd already disappeared around the corner. He unhooked the keys from the elf's belt, opened the door as quietly as possible, and entered the dungeon. He was greeted by an impatient, pacing Thorin.

"What took you so long?"

"We had to wait until the banquet started so the cave would be empty," the hobbit replied testily, unlocking the cell door. "Otherwise you wouldn't have made it very far."

Thorin didn't reply as he followed Bilbo to his kin. His initial irritation for having to wait was replaced by concern for Talaitha. Though he knew it was essential they avoid the elves, he wished it could have been done without the fairy's involvement. _He_ hated Thranduil's people, but Talaitha did not, and he knew she would be distraught if she lost her friendship with them. Not to mention, the elf king would not look kindly on her participation.

"Are we ready?" Bilbo asked, when the last dwarf was freed from his cell.

They nodded, and the hobbit led them past the slumbering guard. Ori tripped over his foot, but whatever Talaitha had given him was so effective that he didn't stir. The dwarves watched with satisfaction as a bit of drool dripped from the corner of the guard's mouth.

The Company traversed the paths as quickly and quietly as they could, but they encountered no one. Despite their abhorrence of elves, the dwarves were impressed by the cleanliness and pleasantness of the underground passages; they were less grand than dwarvish caves, but they were a far cry from the goblin tunnels.

When they climbed down into the cellar, Talaitha was waiting for them. Thorin nearly walked into Dwalin as his gaze traveled over the jasmine-colored, velvet gown that hugged the fairy's figure. The neckline was low, and as Thorin drew closer, he tried not to look at her cleavage or at the way her breasts rose and fell with every breath. He failed.

"You sure did a number on our guard," said Kili.

For once, Thorin was glad for his nephew's interference, for he barely restrained himself from rushing to Talaitha, taking her in his arms, and kissing her. _Mahal_, she looked and smelled divine.

She met his gaze for a second, before turning her attention to Kili. "Valerian. It's a plant that puts those who consume it into a deep sleep." Talaitha smiled sheepishly. "I probably gave him too much, but because elves are more resistant to valerian than other races, I thought it best to be safe."

"He's going to have one hell of a headache when he wakes up," Bofur said cheerfully.

"Elves don't get headaches."

The dwarf's face fell, which made Talaitha smirk.

"Yes, we know, you don't like elves and want them to suffer," Bilbo quipped, anxious and impatient. "But we need to go."

"He's right," said Talaitha. "I sent the two elves in here to the banquet with more wine, but they'll return soon with the empty caskets."

The dwarves rolled out their barrels, then pulled the portcullis open. Talaitha watched, amused, as they climbed inside, grumbling about how cramped they were already. Bombur barely fit into his, and the only reason he did was because Bifur and Bofur pushed, tugged, and turned him until they'd squeezed him in. However, she wasn't sure how he'd get out.

"This is mad," Dwalin muttered.

"We'll be bruised and battered and maybe even drowned," Dori joined in.

"What if I get motion sick?" asked Ori.

"If you'd like, I can take you back to your cells and lock you in again until you come up with a better plan," Bilbo snapped from his own barrel.

This made the dwarves pause in their complaints, for the hobbit and Talaitha _had_ risked themselves to free them. And, they knew, there was no other escape from the elves' cave.

They watched curiously as Talaitha rummaged through a crate of herbs. "If you get motion sick, Ori, chew this." She handed him a sprig of peppermint. "It's a bit wilted, but it should ease the nausea some."

Now the dwarves were truly shamed; even after they'd criticized the escape plan, Talaitha responded with kindness. Ori blushed in embarrassment as he thanked her.

Thorin felt a surge of affection towards her, and he longed to embrace her. But that desire was soon replaced by confusion as a thought occurred to him. "How are we to get _into_ the river?"

"I'll push you," Talaitha replied. "But I may need help." Thorin was the only dwarf not in his barrel yet, and she tilted her head in a silent question. He nodded.

Thorin and the fairy secured the tops onto the barrels, making sure they were tightly fitted, and pushed them into the water one-by-one. Talaitha managed well enough, using her combined strength and body weight to tip the barrels over the edge. The dwarves inside her barrels landed more gently than those inside Thorin's share, if the number of groans was any indication.

Now only he and Talaitha remained.

"Come," he said, leading her towards his barrel.

"No." She pulled her hand from his. "I will not sneak away from another elvish city."

She was referring to Rivendell, he knew, when the Company had left without Lord Elrond's knowledge. Thorin cursed in Khuzdul. This was a fine time for her to obey her conscience!

"If you remain, Thranduil will know you helped us escape," he said, hoping she'd see his reasoning.

"Perhaps," she replied. "But there is little he can do. I have helped his people in the past, and he will remember that."

"Stubborn woman!" Thorin growled, turning away from her in frustration.

But Talaitha was smiling. She touched his shoulder. "Besides, if I go with you, who will push us into the river?"

He realized she had a point, despite his anger. Yet when he thought about Thranduil's fury directed at her, his stomach clenched in fear. Talaitha might believe the elf king would not punish her, but Thorin knew otherwise.

So he tried a different tactic. Turning to face her once more, he took her hands and brought them to his lips. "I only wish for your safety."

"I know, and I will be safe," she said, her voice soft. "Trust me, Thorin."

He did trust her; he just didn't trust Thranduil. "Then I shall stay, too."

"No." Her refusal was swift and firm. "You have a quest to complete."

The reminder was like a kick to the gut. He hadn't forgotten about Erebor, but he simply assumed Talaitha would be there with him when he reclaimed it. He realized he had to face the possibility that this might be the last time he saw her. He just didn't know if he could.

"You are as important to me as the quest," he insisted, though even as he said it, he knew that wasn't true. He cared for Talaitha, yes, but his people had to and did come first. No matter how bitter that loyalty tasted right now.

"Even if I were to believe you, the fact remains that someone has to push your barrel into the water." She smiled sadly.

"Talaitha." He said her name with such raw emotion that she almost believed he'd meant his previous words.

"I _will_ find you." She touched one of his new braids, running her fingers along it tenderly. "And then you can be as angry with me as you like. But for now, please listen to me."

Thorin had been in enough battles to realize when he was beaten. So instead of arguing further, he pulled her closer and kissed her with such force that he felt Talaitha's muffled cry of surprise against his lips. But she reciprocated with equal passion, parting her lips to allow his tongue access. She tasted of raspberries and honey, and he suppressed a shudder as he imagined how that warm, soft mouth would feel on other parts of his body.

When they broke apart, they were panting slightly. Talaitha's cheeks were flushed, and her lips were plump and red. He longed to kiss them again and again, for he had lived 201 years without such a luxury, 201 years without _her_. And it pained him that they would be separated.

"I will listen to you," he said softly, placing butterfly kisses on her forehead, nose, and cheeks. "But when we are reunited, you will face the consequences."

"Mmm, I look forward to that," she practically purred, and Thorin's grip on her hips tightened as he groaned and leaned his forehead against hers. "Now you must stuff yourself inside that barrel and rejoin your kin."

He reluctantly released her and did as she bade. Before she placed the top on, he pulled her in for a final kiss, gentler than the first and filled with all the things he could not say.

"I'll see you in Lake Town," she said, then covered the barrel and, with a mighty heave, pushed it into the river below.


	19. Chapter 19: Confrontation

Hello my lovelies!

Yes, I'm a day late, but I've been a day behind all week. Oops. _Anyway..._

Thank you for the continued response to this story! People are still following/favoriting it, which is mind-boggling to me.

Lillianpost: Hi! You're new! Thank you. :) Yes, it was very important that she be his equal. I feel that a dwarf like Thorin needs a woman who will challenge him sometimes.

ZabuzasGirl: Updated!

3insteinComplex: Oh, Tumblr. I blame it for lots of things. Lol, le sexytime is coming soon (no pun intended...well, maybe a little). But first one more barrier for Talarin. And pun _in_tended that time. XD

Tyrevan: Yes! So far we have Thorin, Legolas, and Bofur, right? Someone needs to drive the getaway car...er, horse. And thank you muchly. :)

Just4Me: Thranduil reasonable? A pig just flew by my window. XD But yes, the farewell scene was great fun to write!

MugglebornPrincesa: I grinned like a fool.

westwingnut221: Ohhh, Aragon, too! Yes, let's. :) And I agree; I felt bad for poor Bilbo in the book, hanging off the side of one of the dwarves' barrels. :( He's too adorable not to have his own! As for the trailer, I'm glad we got a sneak peak at Bard, too! :D

LianaDare8: Talaitha's naughty side will be coming out more often, I think. It's too much fun to write. ;)

**In this chapter:**

1. Thranduil's punishment is as harsh as I could make it while staying true to elvish restraint and decency. I couldn't see even Thranduil using brutality.

2. I was in a weird mood while writing Talaitha. You'll know which part I'm referring to when you read the chapter.

3. I incorporated aspects of the trailer, though one portion is taken out of context to fit with the story.

4. No Talarin, but next chapter will be explosive. ;)

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: Soon, my pretties, Aragorn, Bofur, Legolas, and Thorin will belong to us (because we're kidnapping them, remember?). *cackles* I think that'll please Talaitha. Szélvész, not so much.

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**Chapter 19: Confrontation**

Talaitha dreaded the part that came next. She'd acted confident in front of Thorin, but she knew as well as he that Thranduil would view her actions as betrayal, that he would not be swayed by compassion or gratitude. As she took her seat beside Legolas at one of the banquet tables, she almost wished she'd succumbed to cowardice and left with the Company.

"You look beautiful." Legolas smiled at her, his cerulean eyes roving over the jasmine gown that set off her copper hair.

Guilt stabbed through her like a knife. Had she really betrayed the wood elves by helping her friends? Would Legolas, too, turn his back on her? _No_. She shook her head. Though her loyalties were torn between Thorin's and Thranduil's people, she had not hurt the elves with her actions.

Legolas' forehead wrinkled in curiosity, and Talaitha realized she'd let her emotional conflict show. She desperately grappled for a cover.

"You are too kind, my friend," she smiled back, hoping her blush would be mistaken for shyness and not unease. "I am unused to such flattery, especially from an elf."

"But surely not from your own kin."

Talaitha sipped her wine, feeling her nerves begin to settle. "I haven't spent much time with them recently," she replied with a small smirk.

Legolas' eyes glinted with amusement, and his lips twitched. Talaitha knew he wanted to tease her about Thorin, but for whatever reason, he refrained. She silently thanked him. As she glanced across the clearing, she saw a pretty, auburn-haired elf maiden watching Legolas with such admiration that the fairy couldn't help but smile. She looked at Legolas, but he was oblivious to the she-elf's attention.

"You, on the other hand, seem to have no shortage of admirers."

Legolas raised a brow in question, then his gaze followed Talaitha's, alighting upon the elf woman. His expression became neutral, save for the dilation of his pupils that betrayed his interest.

"She is Idril," Legolas said casually. "A capable member of the guard."

Talaitha giggled. "Very diplomatic answer."

The elf regarded her with a withering glare, but Talaitha wasn't deterred. He'd insinuated enough about her and Thorin's relationship; now it was her turn.

"You should ask her to dance after the meal."

"And you should put that mouth to better use," Legolas quipped, smirking at the unintentional double meaning. "Your lettuce is wilting."

It wasn't, but Talaitha heeded the gentle, halfhearted reprimand. And, as her stomach rumbled, she realized how hungry she was; pushing barrels of dwarves into a river apparently worked up quite an appetite.

She'd only managed a few forkfuls of salad and bread before two elves, including the prison guard, jogged over to Thranduil and whispered urgently to him. Before the king's gaze even reached her, she knew the empty cells had been discovered. Not to mention, the guard had just awoken from an uncharacteristically deep and sudden sleep, and he was surely troubled by that.

Thranduil stood and walked over to her and Legolas, motioning for them to follow. Talaitha nervously glanced up at the prince, who looked confused and slightly apprehensive. As he glanced at her, she thought he saw suspicion in his cerulean eyes.

The elves watched them leave the banquet, their hushed whispers the only sign of their curiosity. Talaitha heard snippets of their conversations.

_I'm sure it has something to do with those dwarves._

_Perhaps Belenir's injury has worsened._

_Or Mithrandir returns with news of the evil ravaging Mirkwood._

When the elves and fairy arrived inside the cave, Thranduil dismissed the guards and stood with his back to Legolas and Talaitha. The king was silent for so long that she twitched impatiently; this anticipation was surely worse than the backlash of his anger.

"Where does your journey end?" Thranduil finally asked. "You seek that which would bestow the right to rule."

Talaitha paled. He knew.

"A quest to reclaim a homeland and slay a dragon," said Thranduil, turning slowly. His face was a calm mask, though his gaze was simultaneously cold and fierce. It sent a shiver up Talaitha's spine.

"Did you really believe I would not learn the truth?" He walked closer until he towered above her. "A messenger bore news that a company of dwarves came to Elrond Half-Elven for counsel. They carried a map of the Lonely Mountain."

"I suppose there's no point in denying it anymore," Talaitha said, her tone resigned.

Movement to her left caught her attention. Legolas appeared beside his father, struggling to decide which emotion-anger or disappointment-he should display. Talaitha had never seen the prince look so conflicted. As the silence stretched on, she grew anxious, smoothing her gown to give her restless hands something to do. Finally, an expression of disappointed crossed Legolas' face, and that, she thought, was worse than anger.

"Rhun was never your destination," he said, eyes studying her face.

"No," she replied softly. "I was part of Thorin's Company."

"Deceit and betrayal," Thranduil hissed. "And all for dwarves."

Talaitha shook her head fervently. "Surely you know that Lady Galadriel has given this quest her blessing."

Legolas' brow rose skeptically, but Thranduil did not contend her words. She continued. "As we speak, Mithrandir is seeking out the source of the darkness that has descended upon the Green Wood. Do you think it will not spread beyond the borders of this forest?"

From the hard glint in Thranduil's eyes, Talaitha knew he, too, had considered that possibility. But his reply was toneless. "Such is the nature of evil. In time, all foul things come forth."

"Yes, of course!" she said with an exasperated sigh. "But if that evil reaches Smaug, Middle-earth will be in grave danger. The dwarves' quest must be allowed to continue, so it could prevent such a threat."

"Or it could hasten it," Thranduil said. "If they wake the dragon, they unleash a force that they cannot defeat."

"You don't know that," Talaitha argued stubbornly. She had to believe that the dwarves would succeed. The alternative was too horrible to imagine.

"They failed a century ago," Legolas deadpanned.

"A century ago they were caught unawares. They are more prepared now."

But were they really? All they had was a ragtag group of dwarves, a not-so-eager burglar, and a lone healer, who might not even make it to Erebor in time. Their most powerful ally was creeping through a crypt somewhere, probably walking right into a trap. How would Gandalf help them then?

"They were ambushed by spiders and captured by my people," Thranduil quipped. "And you believe the dwarves will win against the dragon."

"I believe that conviction and love for one's home and kin are sometimes stronger than an army." Talaitha glared at the elf king. "The men and elves were outnumbered against Sauron, yet their unfailing desire to protect their freedom, lands, and people helped them persevere."

A small smirk briefly graced Thranduil's lips, before he was stoic once more. "The dwarves are only motivated by greed and vengeance."

Talaitha had to admit there was some truth to the elf's words. Thorin certainly sought revenge, but he was also committed to bringing to fruition his father and grandfather's dream that one day, the dwarves would return to Erebor. But she would be lying if she thought the treasure was inconsequential to him and his men.

Her assurance faltered, and Thranduil noticed. "You have freed them only to march to their deaths."

"Not if I'm there." She raised her head and met the king's stare, defiance burning in her green eyes.

Thranduil's tone was cold. "You cannot heal them from a dungeon." He motioned for two guards to tie her wrists together. "Take her away."

Legolas glanced sharply at his father, but the protest on his lips was silenced when Thranduil turned his gaze on his son, a warning flashing in his blue-grey eyes. The prince watched as Talaitha was led from the room. Her struggles against the elves were unsurprisingly futile.

#

Their journey down the river was proving more uncomfortable than they could have imagined. They'd been jostled around so much atop the waves and around the bends that even Dwalin had become motion sick. They needed air, so they pushed off the tops of their barrels, standing on unsteady legs, and breathed deeply. Though they had to find the right balance, or else risk capsizing, their cramped, sore muscles were given a much-needed stretch.

Thorin's thoughts wandered to Talaitha, and he kept glancing back towards Mirkwood, expecting to see her following them on horseback. But birds and squirrels were the dwarves' only company. As he turned his attention to the swiftly flowing river in front of him, he saw a dark-skinned creature slink out from the bushes. Seconds later, an arrow thudded into the side of his barrel.

"Orcs!" shouted Thorin, yanking the arrow from the wood.

His warning alerted not only Bilbo and the dwarves, but their enemy, too. Over a dozen of the foul creatures sprang out from behind the trees, boulders, and bushes, some of them firing arrows, while others ran along the river bank, keeping pace with the barrels.

Thorin cursed as he tried to wrench Orcrist free from the confines of his barrel, and he did so just in time, for an orc leapt towards him. Before it could reach him, however, the dwarf king cut it down with a mighty roar. It felt good to use his muscles again after over a week of inactivity in Mirkwood's dungeon.

His companions fared similarly, hacking and slashing at the orcs that tried to jump onto their barrels. Kili made quick work of the archers on the shore, letting loose arrow after arrow with deadly precision. Few could match or surpass Kili's skill with a bow-no dwarf Thorin had ever seen had, only Talaitha and the elves.

The orcs stopped their pursuit, and as Thorin looked forward, he saw why; a series of rapids and small waterfalls laid ahead, which the Company headed towards with frightening speed. Nori was the first to reach the rapids, gripping tightly to his barrel as it was tossed around violently. Then it disappeared over the edge of a waterfall. The roar of the water was so loud that even if Nori had yelled, the dwarves wouldn't have heard him.

Thorin looked behind. Bilbo was staring at the approaching rapids with wide, terrified eyes, and even Kili-courageous, gutsy Kili-wore a worried expression. Further observation of his men was impossible as Thorin's barrel jounced over the rapids. He clenched his teeth to avoid biting his tongue, and as he fell over the waterfall, his stomach flipped unpleasantly. Then he hit the water _hard_, knocking the air from his lungs momentarily, before bouncing over the second set of rapids. By now, he was soaked, his black hair clinging to his face in wet strands.

Dori had spoken truthfully when he said they'd be bruised and battered. And Thorin hadn't ruled out being drowned yet either.

#

Talaitha sat in the dank cell, not caring if she soiled her jasmine gown. It would serve the elves right for locking her in the dungeon. It was cold and smelled of mold; in fact, in the faint torchlight, she could see something green and slick climbing up the stone walls. The fairy shuddered, unaccustomed to such surroundings. For the first time in her life, she felt an indignant anger boil forth. She was a szelemér princess, for Valar's sake! Then she checked herself. A szelemér princess who wanted nothing to do with the title, who had spent the past decade living a rather nomadic existence, smelling of horse and disease more often than not.

Her thoughts shifted to Thorin, if only to distract herself from her current situation. She hoped the barrels hadn't leaked; Bilbo wasn't the strongest swimmer, though hobbits in general weren't overly fond of deep water. She hoped Thranduil wouldn't send out elves to recapture the dwarves, for that would make her incarceration doubly frustrating. She hoped for many more things, but most of all, she hoped the elf king would release her so that she could reunite with the Company. With Thorin.

But as the night wore on, Talaitha's optimism soured, along with her mood. She was cold, hungry, tired, and thirsty-not to mention disgruntled with herself that she hadn't escaped with the others. And, though she was loathe to admit it, Thorin had been right about Thranduil's reaction.

"Bloody dwarf," she muttered sullenly. He should've just picked her up and shoved her in the barrel, but no, he had to listen to her. And she just _had_ to heed her conscience. Grumbling, she kicked a rock and smirked in satisfaction as it hit the cell bars with a loud _clang_. She kicked another, but that one landed harmlessly in the hall.

At some point, Talaitha had dozed off, waking to the sound of keys jangling and the cell door creaking open. Her hair had come loose from its braided bun and hung messily about her shoulders.

As her eyes adjusted to the light from the torches, she saw Legolas standing over her, holding out his hand to her. She took it, and he helped her stand. Without a word, he led her from the dungeon up to the throne room, where Thranduil sat awaiting them.

"My son believes you acted selflessly and according to your moral judgment," the king said tonelessly. "He believes holding you in the dungeon is too harsh a punishment, especially considering who you are."

Talaitha knew he was referring to her status as a princess and occupation as a healer. Her gaze met Legolas', and the prince offered her a tight smile; he wasn't happy with her, but he'd spoken on her behalf. She felt her heart lighten.

"Yet one ill turn deserves another," Thranduil continued ominiously. "For your betrayal, Talaitha Borvirág, you are hereby banished from Mirkwood, never to set foot among the wood elves again."

The fairy's eyes widened in shock, and her stomach felt like lead had been dropped into it. She didn't need to ask what would happen if she returned. "My lord," she breathed. "I did not harm the elves when I helped the dwarves escape."

"You harmed all the people of Middle-earth with your actions." Thranduil's voice was hard as steel. "For if the dragon wakes, it _will_ wreak destruction."

Before Talaitha could answer, Thranduil nodded to two guards, who bound her hands and held her upper arms. "Lead her from the forest."

The guards gently pulled her forward, though she would have gone voluntarily. She looked behind her and saw Legolas following with her clothes and weapons. He appeared troubled.

When they'd left the cave, the prince dismissed the guards and turned to Talaitha. "I am sorry for this." Then he saddled Celebhith and a small mare for Talaitha, secured her belongings on his saddle, and spurred Celebhith into a gallop.

As the trees passed by in a blur, the fairy felt a strange calm descend upon her. She attributed it to finally leaving the oppressive forest behind, but she knew it was a kind of resignation. She would never see her elf-friend again, and she'd accepted that. For now, at least.


	20. Chapter 20: Poison

I know I'm late. I just haven't much been in the mood to write lately, and this chapter was giving me grief. But now that I was editing it, I'm quite pleased with how it turned out. Of course, as with all the chapters, there will always be parts I'm discontent with, but as a whole, it suffices.

This is a milestone for me, guys. Twenty chapters. I have written many stories, none of them nearly this long or dear to my heart. And it's in large part to you, to everyone who's favorited, followed, and commented on _Soul Healing_. So I just want to thank all of you, sincerely, for the interest. K, sappy moment over (I hardly recognize myself XD).

anparker09: Thank you! The szelemér...I heavily borrowed from Hungarian mythology while creating their history. XD Half the fun of this story is weaving them into Middle-earth's.

Tyrevan: Bless you, for both your kind words and being the horse woman. :)

kaia: I think Talaitha expected it deep down but deluded herself. Just how I see it, at least. And Thranduil, the poor elf. Getting lots of hate, haha.

MugglebornPrincesa: Lmao, don't worry, his part's over I think.

KillerKadoogan: Oh believe you me, I seriously contemplated writing her and Thorin squished inside the same barrel. The fun to be had! But it just didn't fit, regrettably. :/ I saw _Man of Steel_, too! I'm still drooling over Cavill...

Just4Me: He was, but he's an elf, so I figured it's in his nature. She should have gone with Thorin, I agree. :)

AbyssPrime: She will indeed!

Sesshomaru's Babydoll: I swear I've seen you post though! But no matter, what a way to introduce yourself! I bounced like a giddy fool when I read your review, so thank you immensely! Also, I don't think I've used so many exclamation points in my life. XD

Emma0707: Faramir, yes! I wanted to comfort him so much in the films...and stab his douche of a father. And thank you. :)

loveorpain: I fear your "awwww no" will be repeated after this chapter, dearie.

KayBeth13: Thank you! :)

LianaDare18: They're reunited, though perhaps not quite in the way they'd hoped. *dashes away*

**In this chapter:**

1. Lake Town! No Bard yet, though.

2. Reunion. Yay!

3. Very little cheer. In fact, the most serious chapter to date. Oops.

4. But just know, it had to be done.

Disclaimer: My ownership of Talaitha's slipping. Oh, and I'm also kidnapping Henry Cavill. Yeah, different fandom, but damn.

* * *

**Chapter 20: Poison**

By noon, Legolas and Talaitha were out of Mirkwood and galloping along the banks of the Forest River. She searched for any signs that the Company had encountered mischief along the way-strewn arrows, broken barrels, dried blood-but saw nothing. She was starting to relax and enjoy the fresh air, when she glimpsed a dark body lying in the grass.

"Azog found them," Talaitha breathed, alarmed.

She slowed her mare and slid from the saddle, careful not to catch her dress in the buckles, to crouch beside the body she'd spied before. It was a dead orc. Yanking the arrow from its chest, she examined the large, short tip. The unique arrow was crafted by no elf, dwarf, orc, or human, yet it was familiar.

"This is one of the arrows Beorn gave us," she said. Only one dwarf could have shot the orc with such accuracy from a moving, unsteady barrel. She glanced farther down the riverbank, and the dread in her stomach lifted when she only saw dead orcs littered along it.

She smiled up at Legolas, who did not share her relief. "I think the dwarves made it past the ambush."

The elf's reply was cut short as his sharp hearing caught the barely audible sounds of feet rustling in the grass. He placed a finger to his lips to silence Talaitha's question and readied his bow. As quietly as she could, Talaitha climbed into the saddle and nocked the arrow she'd just pulled from the dead orc onto her bowstring. And not a moment too soon, for seconds later, at least a dozen orcs rushed out from behind the foliage, firing their own arrows and hurling short spears.

Legolas wasted no time in shooting the orcs, and she followed suite once she'd calmed her frightened mare. Talaitha supposed she'd never seen battle, which didn't bode well for either of them. When she wasn't defending herself, she kept a gentle hand on her horse's neck to soothe her as much as possible. Still, Talaitha had to concentrate to keep her seat, for the mare fidgeted and tried to rear up onto her hind legs.

Those few seconds of distraction were enough for an arrow to pierce Talaitha's left thigh, wrenching forth a sharp cry of pain from the fairy. The tip went through her flesh to the front and grazed the mare's flank, startling her more than hurting her. Yet without her rider's comforting touch, she jerked forward in a half buck, dislodging Talaitha enough that she fell but managed to protect her head before she hit the ground with a yelp.

Legolas directed Celebhith to where she laid on her back, injured leg's knee bent, gingerly touching the arrow protruding from her thigh. Ignoring the pain, she felt the area surrounding the wound, pressed it but felt no worse damage than torn skin and muscle. The tip had narrowly missed her artery. Releasing the breath she didn't know she was holding, Talaitha now allowed herself to focus on Legolas, who had dismounted and crouched beside her.

"I am fine," she assured him, when she saw the concern in his eyes. "Just help me up."

His gaze fell to the arrow in her leg, but she shook her head. "No time now."

The orcs grew bolder, running towards them with brandished blades. Legolas pulled Talaitha to her feet, keeping his hands on her waist until she'd found her balance. Then, the elf and fairy simultaneously nocked arrows, drew their bows, and shot down two of the oncoming orcs. They fired arrow after arrow until the orcs were too close, forcing them into hand-to-hand combat. Legolas kept Talaitha behind him as he twirled gracefully, his twin fighting knives glinting dangerously in the sunlight before slashing the throats of the two nearest orcs.

Talaitha had drawn Ezüstlélek, but it suddenly felt heavy in her hand. She was dizzy, and her thigh throbbed with renewed, more intense pain. Breathing deeply, she tried to steady herself, but her vision was becoming increasingly blurry, the edges graying and narrowing, as though she were looking into a tunnel. Before she collapsed, a warmth suffused her, and she almost smiled at how pleasant fainting felt. It was like falling asleep.

Meanwhile, Legolas had cut down another orc, and he nearly slashed out behind him when he felt a weight press against his legs. A quick glance at the cause wrapped a tendril of fear around his heart; Talaitha should not have fainted from her injury. He looked ahead again, and only two orcs remained, which Celebhith dispatched quickly with a few well-aimed strikes of his hooves to their heads.

Picking up Talaitha, he searched for her mare, but she was nowhere to be found. At his whistle, Celebhith came forward, still fidgeting with energy from the battle. But the stallion calmed when Legolas placed a hand on his flank and whispered soft words in Elvish. He shifted Talaitha to one arm and pulled the both of them into the saddle with the other, resting the fairy in front of him. To keep her from tipping forward and hurting herself on Celebith's neck as they rode, Legolas leaned her back against his chest. When he was sure she was secure, he urged the stallion into his swiftest gallop.

#

The dwarves sighed in relief as the river finally slowed and flowed calmly toward a large, wooden town in the center of a lake, connected to the shore by a long bridge. They supposed it must be Lake Town, for what else would a great, floating habitation be called?

Thorin glanced behind him, taking in his kin's appearances. Ori looked slightly queasy. Nori grimaced as he clenched and unclenched his fists, fingers stiff from gripping his barrel so tightly. Dori was occupied with fixing the braids of his ornate beard. Óin had lost his hearing horn. Bombur was stuck inside his barrel, and Thorin already dreaded how they'd pry him out. Bofur was wringing water from his hat. Bifur had injured his head when it slammed against the edge of his barrel over the rapids. Balin had sat down at the bottom of his barrel. And Bilbo looked more sodden and miserable than the rest. That left five dwarves, including himself, who were in slightly better condition.

"Fili, Kili, Glóin, Dwalin," said Thorin. "Help me pull the others to shore."

The named dwarves pushed themselves from their barrels and did as their leader bade. It took three of them-Dwalin, Thorin, and Glóin-to drag Bombur's barrel from the river, after which they sat down heavily in the sand, trying to catch their breaths. Fili and Kili helped the others climb out of their barrels, but Bofur's and Dori's still tipped over, spilling them onto the ground. They remained like that, sprawled with their limbs stretched out, until Bilbo sneezed.

"Here," said Bofur, ripping off a section of his tunic and tossing it in the hobbit's general direction.

Bilbo picked up the wet scrap of fabric, staring at it dubiously. But he had nothing else, unless he wanted to tear a piece of his own shirt to use as a handkerchief. Though he looked bedraggled and had sullied his good name by going on this adventure, he still fancied himself a respectable hobbit, and respectable hobbits did not blow their noses into their clothing. So he blew it into someone else's.

Once the dwarves had recovered from their ordeal, the complaining began.

"That was the worst experience of my life," grumbled Nori. "And I've been chased by bears."

"My beard will never dry," lamented Glóin.

"I still feel sick," moaned Ori, who did look a bit green. He'd just remembered the mint leaf in his pocket and stuffed it into his mouth.

"I was wedged too tightly," whined Bombur.

Bifur mumbled something in Khuzdul.

"I hate water," growled Dwalin.

Before any of them could utter another word, Bilbo stomped to the center of the group and glared at each dwarf. "You're free, aren't you? And alive." He sneezed again. "Besides, _I'm_ the one who seems to have caught a cold."

The dwarves reluctantly murmured in agreement, and Ori nodded sheepishly. It'd been a bumpy and cramped journey, but at least they were rid of the elvish dungeon. And of Mirkwood. Not to mention, they hadn't gotten sick, so all around, they realized they'd been fortunate.

"Enough," said Thorin brusquely. "You would do well to remember who freed us from that wretched place."

His thoughts drifted to Talaitha, his heart heavy with dread and the pain of their separation. Despite her assurance that they would reunite in Lake Town, he wasn't sure he'd ever see her again. He knew Thranduil wouldn't let her free, not without punishment, at least, and he feared what the consequences would be. His rational side assured him the elf king would not harm Talaitha physically; after all, even the worst elves were too honorable to resort to torture. But his less logical side, driven by his grudge against Thranduil and his fondness for the fairy, reminded him that the king was _not_ an honorable elf.

"Uncle, are you well?" asked Fili.

It was only then that Thorin noticed the Company's attention was on him. Some faces looked concerned; others, curious. Bilbo suspected the cause of Thorin's edgy reticence, for he, too, worried about Talaitha.

"I am fine," the dwarf king replied gruffly. "Get up. We make for Lake Town."

#

Celebhith's flanks were coated with sweat as he galloped across the wooden bridge leading into the town. Guards met the stallion and promptly jumped out of the way as he rushed past them, only stopping when he reached the healing pavilion. Legolas wrapped his arms around Talaitha and slid gracefully from the saddle, seemingly unburdened by the small woman.

The guards had finally caught up with and surrounded the elf, brandished swords pointed at him. His normally kind blue eyes were hard as he surveyed the men. He knew if the need arose, he would be victorious against them, but he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"This woman has been struck by a poisoned arrow. She needs a healer."

The soldiers shifted uneasily on their feet, unsure what to do. They were used to being commanded, so now when _they_ had to decide the next course of action, they balked, fearing the repercussions of the wrong choice.

"If you wish to retain my people as friends, you will stand aside and allow me to take this woman to a healer," said Legolas, his tone tinged with a warning.

The men glanced at each other, then at the tall elf and the twin blades strapped to his back. They stood aside, for they knew that trade with the elves was essential to Lake Town; without it, the city would fall into economic ruin. Watching Legolas stride into the healing pavilion jolted the soldiers into action. A few followed him at a safe distance, though they'd be little threat to him if the situation turned hostile. Some ran off to inform the Master of the town of the elf's unannounced arrival. But most trickled back to whatever they were doing before the stallion thundered past.

Meanwhile, the guards had reached the banquet hall where the Master and his thirteen guests were feasting. Thorin glanced up, as he did every time someone entered the room, in the hopes that it was Talaitha walking through the door. But, like countless times before, it was not her, yet Thorin's attention did not wane this time. He heard the messengers speak of an elf carrying a small woman, and fear stabbed through his heart. If the woman was Talaitha, then she was injured, for why else would she need to be carried?

"I am sorry, my friends. There is an urgent matter I must attend to," said the Master, standing. "Please stay and finish your meal. I shall find you after."

Thorin stood, too. "An elf arrived with a woman, am I correct?" At the Master's reluctant nod, the dwarf continued. "I believe I am acquainted with this woman."

He didn't ask permission to accompany the Master-he didn't need to-, but the man nevertheless understood his unspoken intent. He knew well that the dwarf was a king, albeit an uncrowned one, so despite appearances, he had little real power over him. He had no choice but to acquiesce with seeming grace, though internally he seethed.

Bilbo jumped up from the table, his pork and roast potatoes forgotten, which was saying something for a hobbit. "I'm coming, too."

The Master was about to protest, but Thorin's glare silenced him. If the woman was indeed Talaitha, Bilbo was probably the first person she'd wish to see, especially if she was injured. The dwarf knew and accepted this, despite the slight pang of jealousy.

"Is it Talaitha?" Kili whispered to his brother.

Fili shrugged. "From Thorin's and Bilbo's reactions, probably."

"It's not like we know anyone else who'd come to Lake Town with an elf," said Bofur, pouring himself and the Durin brothers more ale.

"Do you think she's hurt?" asked Ori worriedly.

Dori patted the young dwarf's hand. "I'm sure if she is, the healers will take care of her."

#

By the time Thorin and Bilbo reached Talaitha, she was once again conscious, though a light sheen of sweat on her forehead betrayed a fever. A healer was about to remove the arrow from her thigh, when the dwarf and hobbit appeared through the door.

"Talaitha!" Bilbo cried, rushing to her side. Thorin followed with quick, determined strides.

She smiled when she saw them, though Thorin could see she was far from well. Her skin was pallid and her breathing shallower than it should have been.

"I am pleased you arrived safely," Talaitha said softly, taking Bilbo's hand.

"Where is the elf?" asked the Master.

"He left. Had to return for his kin to hunt down any lingering orcs," she replied, her voice weakening.

Thorin clenched his fists, his eyes dark and dangerous. Azog had killed his grandfather and countless other dwarves and had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin, but Thorin would be damned if he took Talaitha from him, too. He would have revenge on the pale orc, even if it meant his life.

"What happened?" asked Bilbo.

Talaitha closed her eyes briefly before replying. "Legolas and I were ambushed by the orcs that attacked you. I took a poisoned arrow to the leg." She attempted a smile, but to Thorin, it looked more like a grimace.

"The arrow must be removed," said the healer, gently pulling the hobbit away and ushering all unnecessary people, including the guards and the Master, outside.

Talaitha's eyes grew wide, but she nodded. As the healer grasped the arrow, the fairy's gaze flicked to Thorin, and he saw her fear; she'd removed plenty of arrows from plenty of soldiers, but she'd never been on the receiving end until now.

Without even a second's hesitation, Thorin moved to her side, taking her hand in his. "Don't look away from me," he said softly, then nodded to the healer, who broke off the arrow's head and pulled out the shaft in rapid succession. Even so, Talaitha cried out softly and squeezed Thorin's hand _hard _as the jagged wood scraped against her injured flesh. The healer flushed out the wound with water, then with an infusion of marjoram to prevent infection. Talaitha never once took her eyes from Thorin's face while the healer worked, though the dwarf could see she was struggling to keep them open. It looked as though was slipping into unconsciousness again, but suddenly, she gasped, closing her eyes tightly.

"The poison," said the healer, trying to keep the concern from her voice. But both Thorin and Talaitha heard it.

"Belladonna and red clover," said Talaitha, straining to keep her voice steady. "Bilbo. In my medicine bag."

Bilbo jumped up, searching for the leather _tarsoly_, and handed it to the healer, who quickly made an infusion of belladonna and red clover. By the time it was finished, Talaitha was only conscious because Thorin would not allow her eyes to close. He knew if they did, they would never open again. He propped her up and helped her drink the antidote, then laid her down on the bed. Bilbo took up his place by her other side, and he and Thorin watched as she fell unconscious.

"She will live, won't she?" asked the hobbit. He touched the pulse point on her wrist, as if to reassure himself that her heart still beat.

"Her chances have just improved with the antidote," the healer replied, but her tone was guarded. "If she wakes up again, give her this." The healer handed Thorin a vial with a murky, clear-colored liquid inside. "White willow bark tea. It will help against the pain."

"You are leaving?" Thorin asked, his voice bordering on angry.

"There is naught for me to do," the healer said. "Her recovery is up to her now, but I will return in an hour to check on her."

After the healer left, Thorin moved a curl from Talaitha's cheek, allowing his fingers to linger longer than necessary. Bilbo noticed. He also noticed how carefully the dwarf held her hand, as though he were afraid a stronger grip would break it. And he saw each tender stroke of Thorin's thumb against the fairy's knuckles.

An hour later, the healer returned, just like she'd promised. Laying her hand on Talaitha's sweaty forehead, she frowned, and moved her hand to the pulse point on the fairy's neck. Her frown deepened.

"She is feverish."

"But isn't that good?" asked Bilbo. "She will sweat out the poison."

"Normally it would be, but her pulse is fast and erratic. The fever is too high." The healer took out another vial from a large, wooden cabinet. "Tea from the feverfew tree's bark should help."

Thorin held up Talaitha while the healer soaked a cloth in the tea and dripped it into the fairy's mouth. It was a slow process but the only way to ensure she wouldn't choke on the liquid. The healer filled a bowl with cool water and dipped another cloth into it, which she wrung out and placed on Talaitha's forehead. A third damp cloth was wrapped loosely around her neck.

"I will return in a few hours, but her fever should soon be at a safer temperature."

Thorin watched the healer leave, a flurry of emotions raging within: anger with himself for not being there to protect her, irritation with the healer for her detached attitude, fury toward Thranduil for necessitating that Talaitha and the Company leave separately, and hatred toward Azog and the orc who shot the fairy. But all of those paled in comparison to the sheer terror that she might succumb to the poison.

In that moment, he didn't care that Bilbo sat across from him. He didn't care about the quest, about the treasure, about being King under the Mountain. As he lifted her hand to his lips, all he cared about was her recovery.

"Please live," he whispered raggedly.


	21. Chapter 21: Awakening

Surprise!

Yes, my preciouses, this is a chapter. And it's early! Like really, really early. Only thing I can say is that this chapter was written with shocking ease. I guess getting into the head of an exiled dwarf king comes naturally to me? Most likely I think I was just feeling angsty, and exploring Thorin's feelings helped because the chapter ends happily.

To everyone who's stuck with this story, and to everyone who's just discovered it, thank you!

Agent007Tomato: I'd really love to know the story behind that name. ;) Thanks for reviewing! You didn't have to wait long for the update, lol.

LilliLabyrinth: Yes, I reply to reviews. It's the least I can do since you guys take the time to write them. An ale it is then! But yes, don't worry, our dwarves get to eat quite a bit in this chapter. XD Iron Hills...that would've worked, actually. Darn you, now I'm itching to rewrite that scene! :p

Just4Me: Yes, this story will have a happy ending, but Laitha's poisoning served a purpose, I promise! And it wasn't just to torment Thorin more, hah.

loveorpain: This chapter's much happier. :)

Kat: Thank you! :D

AbyssPrime: Of course she's going to live. :)

LianaDare8: Oh God, don't even remind me. I'm already dreading writing that part. D:

westwingnut221: Lmao, "Um...look at my pecs!" Yesssss. The dwarves are so much fun to write, so I'm thrilled you enjoyed that part. :)

LadyAlrisha: Wow, I'm a bit floored by your review, thank you! *hugs* I never thought this story would be so well-received.

I**n this chapter:**

1. More worried Thorin.

2. Ruminating Thorin. Then a very smiley Thorin.

3. Cute dwarves!

4. Bilbo+Thorin bonding. Yay!

5. Legolas.

6. I touched on something Richard Armitage mentioned in an interview about how he'd like to ask Tolkien if Thorin had a woman who was killed in the dragon attack.

7. Happy ending.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing clever to say this time, so I only own Talaitha.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 21: Awakening**

It was past midnight, and Bilbo was slumped forward onto the edge of Talaitha's bed, having fallen asleep about an hour ago. Thorin watched the hobbit sleep, a strange sort of fondness mixed with respect creeping up on him. He could have slept in a comfortable bed, but instead he chose to stay with the dwarf king to keep vigil over the fairy. Not to mention, earlier he'd abandoned his first proper dinner in a long time, despite the fact that he'd been practically drooling over the roast pork and potatoes. Thorin suspected the bread, sausage, and cheese that Bombur brought hadn't completely sated him, but the hobbit made no complaint.

Thorin's kin had visited throughout the evening, but it was a somber event. Dwalin patted Talaitha's arm and gruffly mumbled something none of them heard, save for the parting "lass." Dori had gathered wildflowers, which now sat in a vase beside the bed. Even Kili was serious, regarding Talaitha with an uncharacteristically sad expression that Thorin found unnerving for two reasons: first, it was simply unlike Kili, and second, his nephew seemed to think the fairy would succumb to the poison. Óin had prepared a balm that would cool and soothe Talaitha, which Thorin spread on her chest, careful to avoid the dip of her breasts. Her breathing evened out, and her pulse returned to normal, but she still hadn't woken. In fact, she'd barely moved. But Thorin kept his hand around hers, rubbing circles on her palm, hoping for some sort of reaction that signified she knew someone was with her, that she wasn't alone.

The door opened; he ignored the figure that walked in, thinking it the healer. But an infuriatingly familiar voice spoke up that _wasn't_ the healer's.

"How is she?"

Thorin's head snapped up, a fierce glower settling on his face as his gaze met Legolas'. The elf didn't share the dwarf's anger. The cerulean blue eyes flicked to the fairy on the bed, and Thorin tried to ignore the blatant concern they held.

"Alive," grunted the dwarf. "She received an antidote for the poison, but there's been little change."

Legolas drew closer to the bed, placing his hand on Talaitha's forehead. She was still feverish but less so than earlier. Her skin was grayish, offsetting the purplish dark circles under her eyes, and slicked with sweat. And she was still wearing the banquet gown. The elf nearly smiled at that.

"She is strong," Legolas said, looking at the dwarf. "Do not abandon hope."

Thorin's immediate reaction was to snap in reply, but he checked it for Talaitha's sake, though his free hand did clench into a fist. The elf was her friend, and even Thorin could not begrudge the evident concern he showed. However, that did not mean the dwarf had to be welcoming.

"You should have protected her."

Legolas nodded. "I should have." The look in his eyes suggested his words referred to more than just the orc attack.

The dwarf silently cursed the elf, having expected him to defend himself and deny responsibility. That would have made it much simpler, for now he did not know what to say. Luckily, he didn't have to say anything.

"My kin hunted down the scouting party."

Thorin knew he meant the orcs. "Did you encounter the Pale Orc?"

"We did not," Legolas replied. "But he will show himself soon."

Thorin nodded. That's what he feared, for if Beorn's word was to be trusted-and he knew it was-, Azog had forged an alliance with the goblins. There would be a reckoning yet.

The prince's gaze fell on Bilbo for the first time. "Was he with you in the cave?"

"He was," Thorin replied, surprising himself and the elf with his candor.

Legolas smirked. "Barrels." Then he moved away from the bed, his hand on the door handle, as if waiting for something.

"What was her punishment?" Thorin asked.

The elf looked sadly at Talaitha, before turning his back to her and the dwarf. "Banishment." Then, without a second glance, he was gone.

Thorin breathed a quiet sigh of relief, feeling his muscles relax. It was only then that he noticed how tired he was, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until Talaitha awoke. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her green gaze-not bright and lively, like he was accustomed to, but fearful and glossed with pain. The sight haunted him.

Sleepy mumblings drew his attention; Bilbo was waking. The hobbit rubbed sleep from his eyes, then stared at Thorin sheepishly. "I fell asleep."

The dwarf smirked. "Only for a couple hours."

"What'd I miss?" Bilbo looked at Talaitha, touched her wrist for her pulse. He visibly relaxed when he felt the steady throb in her veins.

"The elf was here."

"What?!" cried Bilbo, then clapped a hand over his mouth and glanced around the room, as if expecting to find a dead elf. Thorin nearly laughed. "Which one?" asked the hobbit once he'd reassured himself that no murder had occurred while he was asleep.

"The prince," Thorin replied. "They were together when she was shot."

Bilbo watched the dwarf carefully, afraid his next words might set him off. "Do you blame him?"

Thorin was silent for a few moments, digesting the storm of emotions within. He'd sorted through them while Bilbo slept, but they hadn't really changed. He still hated the orcs, hated Thranduil, and worried for Talaitha. But he didn't hold Legolas responsible. And the revelation surprised him as much as it did the hobbit.

"No."

Bilbo's eyes widened. "The orcs?"

"Of course," Thorin replied without hesitation and with a fair amount of venom in his voice. "But I blame myself more. I should have forced her to come with us. Or remained behind with her."

Bilbo smiled down at Talaitha and took her hand. "She would not have allowed you to do either, you know."

Thorin _did_ know, but it didn't assuage his guilt. She was part of his Company; her safety and well-being were his responsibility, and that wasn't even taking into account his feelings for her. He cared for her in a way he hadn't cared for a woman since before Smaug attacked Erebor. And he'd failed her, just as he'd failed in the past.

"I should have been there."

"It wasn't your fault, Thorin," Bilbo said firmly. "Talaitha is stubborn, not unlike you." Thorin grunted at that, though the corners of his lips quirked upward. "But she's also looked after herself for ten years. I don't think she really _needs_ anyone to protect her."

"When did you become so sage?" teased Thorin, allowing himself a genuine smile for the first time since parting with Talaitha.

"It's this adventure." Bilbo laughed. "I guess this is what Gandalf meant when he said I'd become a different hobbit."

"Indeed," Thorin murmured. But Bilbo wasn't the only one who'd changed during the quest.

#

A bright morning dawned, but it did nothing to lift Thorin's spirits. During the night, Talaitha had shifted nearer to him, and though she was still unconscious, Lake Town's healer considered that a good sign. But if Talaitha's condition was improving, why wasn't she awake yet?

Bilbo had gone to get them breakfast, but Thorin wasn't sure he could eat anything; his stomach felt heavy, same as the day he saw his brother, then grandfather die. And same as on that fateful, horrific day. He bit back a wave of nausea as the memories and pain he'd so meticulously controlled resurfaced. He had lost too many people, too many loved ones, and he supposed that was one reason he'd devoted himself so completely to his kin's well-being and future. Because if he was too busy rebuilding their culture, he could minimize social attachments and the resulting loss that inevitably followed. His nephews had been the exception; he'd allowed himself to dote upon them when they were dwarflings, and he still kept a watchful eye on them, however gruff his affection towards them had become.

And now there was Talaitha. He fought his feelings for her as long as he could, fearing falling into exactly _this_ type of situation. For all his stoicism, Thorin Oakenshield was a man of intense emotions and passions; he felt as strongly as others did, but he masked it expertly. He suspected that was due to years of toiling in human settlements, bearing the humiliation in order to support his people. _"A king does not show weakness,"_ his grandfather had once said. He'd been referring to emotions, of course, and the advice had stuck with him. Yet now, as he watched Talaitha's chest rise and fall, he'd begun to realize that emotions could be a strength, too.

"I got us some eggs, bacon, toast, and tomatoes," said Bilbo, interrupting Thorin's musings.

The dwarf looked up at the hobbit, surprise etched onto his face for a moment; he'd been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't heard him enter. Smiling at him briefly, Thorin accepted a plate of food and ate slowly, if for no other reason than to appease Bilbo.

The hobbit's light chatter was a welcome change from the dwarf's gloomy ruminations. "Bombur broke a chair. The Master of Lake Town, who, by the way, is not a very pleasant fellow, looked rather disgruntled."

Thorin grunted in amusement, for he wasn't fond of the human either. Bilbo paused to eat a piece of buttered toast, then continued. "The dwarves requested ale with breakfast. So much ale that the servants just brought out the entire barrel."

Thorin winced. "Speak not of barrels."

Bilbo smirked but heeded the dwarf's request. "And Ori sent this for Talaitha." He pulled out a piece of parchment from his jacket pocket and handed it to Thorin.

The dwarf unfolded it and grinned. It was a card, wishing the fairy a speedy recovery. There was a short, cute poem that the scribe had written, followed by a small drawing of her sitting on the bed, surrounded by the Company. Thorin's mood lightened at the thoughtful gesture. He set the card beside Dori's flowers on the nightstand and finished his meal, surprised that he'd actually enjoyed it.

Incoherent mumblings from the bed between them nearly caused Bilbo and Thorin to upend their empty plates. They watched Talaitha expectantly as she shifted under the covers and finally opened her eyes. Then promptly shut them again. The dwarf's and hobbit's eyebrows simultaneously furrowed in confusion.

"Too bright," she said hoarsely, turning her head away from the beam of sunlight shining right onto her face.

Bilbo jumped up and pulled the curtains across the window. Talaitha opened her eyes again and smiled, first at the hobbit, then at the dwarf. She glanced down at her hand, which was encased in Thorin's, a light blush creeping into her cheeks. Thorin gave her a lopsided smile and restrained the instinctive urge to crush her to his chest in joy and relief. Instead, he helped her to sit up, though his hands lingered on her shoulders a few seconds longer than necessary.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked after gulping down a glass of water.

"Not as long as we'd thought you'd be," Bilbo replied. "I think about eighteen hours?"

Talaitha nodded, as though that was an acceptable answer. "And how long have you two been sitting here?"

"About eighteen hours," Bilbo said again. Then, before she could protest, "I slept. Don't know about Thorin, though."

She glanced at him, at the weary sag of his shoulders. His eyes, though, were devoid of fatigue; they were as clear a blue as she'd ever seen them and were currently watching her with a hint of amusement. She decided to postpone her scolding, for she wanted to savor his happy expression as long as possible.

Bilbo saw the way Thorin's and Talaitha's gazes met and chose that moment to take his and Thorin's empty plates to the kitchens. When the door closed behind the hobbit, Thorin wasted no time in leaning forward to wrap his arms around Talaitha and pull her to him. For a second, she was surprised by his sudden gesture of affection, but then she leaned into his embrace, tucking her head under his chin. They stayed like that, Thorin stroking her hair and Talaitha listening to the steady beat of his heart, until the door opened and the healer walked in.

The dwarf reluctantly released her and watched as the healer placed her hand on Talaitha's forehead and measured her pulse. All the while, Talaitha's eyes kept flitting to Thorin, a smile tugging at her lips.

"It appears your body has flushed the poison," said the healer, once she'd finished her examination. "How do you feel?"

"My leg's a bit sore," Talaitha said, ghosting her hand over her arrow wound. "But I don't feel the effects of the poison anymore."

"Let's take a look at that leg, then." The healer gave Thorin a pointed look, and he turned his back, biting back his irritation at being told what to do with a mere glance. He heard the sheets rustle as Talaitha pulled up her dress to reveal the injured appendage.

"The wound is healing nicely," said the healer as she unwrapped the bandage around Talaitha's thigh. "I shall leave you to tend to it as you will." She and the fairy shared a smile, then the healer left.

"You can turn around now," said Talaitha, her voice tinged with amusement. "I need your help anyway."

When he looked at her again, he nearly fell off the chair. Her leg was still uncovered, and though he noticed the wound, his mind paid more attention to the pale skin of her shapely thigh. His fingers twitched, longing to touch it.

Her amusement only seemed to increase as she observed his reaction. When he finally tore his gaze away, he saw a coy glimmer in her peridot-green eyes. The little minx was purposely tormenting him, knowing he could not surrender to his desires yet!

"What do you need?" he asked, more roughly than he'd intended.

The smirk did not leave her lips as she pointed to her _tarsoly_. "The small bottle of light green paste."

He did as she bade and watched as she dipped one end of a cloth into the bowl of water and cleaned the wound, wincing slightly at the sting. Then she uncapped the bottle and dipped the other end of the cloth into the paste, gently dabbing it over the injury. A familiar scent wafted toward him.

"Witch hazel." He scowled.

"Yes, it's the same balm I used on your cuts," she said as she wrapped a clean bandage around her thigh and pulled down the gown. "You shouldn't hate the plant so much. It will ease the pain in my leg."

"In that case, perhaps I shall grow as fond of it as I am of you," he teased gently.

Before she could reply, a knock sounded on the door, and Bilbo peeked his head in. "I come bearing food." He entered with a tray, smiling sheepishly. "And dwarves."

Talaitha giggled and clapped her hands together in delight as Fili and Kili bounded in, nearly colliding with the hobbit, and perched on the edge of her bed. The rest of the Company followed more sedately, though no less happily.

"When Bilbo told us you were awake, we had to come and see you right away," said Kili, grinning from ear-to-ear.

Fili jumped in. "He said you would probably want to rest some more."

"But you've been asleep for over half a day, so we figured you'd want some company instead," finished Kili.

Ori appeared by the bed. "Were we right?" he asked shyly.

"Absolutely!" Talaitha chirped with a grin. And she meant it, too, for that motley group of dwarves had become a sort of family to her.

As she ate her breakfast, she listened to the dwarves and Bilbo recount their escape from Mirkwood, her heart and spirit growing ever lighter. She was surprised to note that even Thorin seemed less burdened, occasionally interjecting his own complaints about the universally-hated barrels.

Surrounded by friends, Talaitha forgot about the trials in Mirkwood, her banishment, and her mishap with the orcs. The only thing of importance was that, for the moment, everyone was together again, safe and content.


	22. Chapter 22: Dwarf Defenders

Hello all!

A quick note before I get to the usual author's note: I'll be in Bologna from Friday to Sunday (without my laptop), so the next chapter _might_ be a bit late. Probably not, as I have tomorrow, Thursday, Sunday night, Monday, and half of Tuesday to write, but I just wanted to give a heads-up just in case.

As usual, thank you to everyone who's favorited, followed, and reviewed _Soul Healing_! *hugs*

HogwartsDwarfKat: Kili and Fili, check! I do adore them, and they have a cute line in this chapter. :) This story's a labor of love, so I really appreciate such positive feedback, thank you!

SeasonsInReverse: Thank you! :)  


creepyLOTRfangirl55: Lmao, you said it!

KillerKadoogan: I'd been meaning to tell you that I _love_ your icon-mmm shirtless Thorin. ;) Yes, I wanted Bilbo and Thorin to bond, to show how far they'd come since Bag End, but I couldn't really think of another way than to shoot Talaitha. She's yet to forgive me for that. XD And I seriously look forward to your reviews, so thank you, darling! :)

Abyss Prime: I want a family like that!

LadyAlrisha: Thank you! I tried to make Talaitha more than just Thorin's love interest and incorporate her and her race into Middle-earth. :)

Just4Me: I know! Legolas is such a lovable elf. :D I think even Thorin doesn't really hate him, lol. As for waking up with Thorin holding your hand, just wait till next chapter. XD

kaia: Lol, you know, I actually considered having Bilbo drop the plate! But then I thought it might distract from the scene. :)

LianaDare8: There's happiness ahead for quite some time, dearie. :) Always more Talarin!

**In this chapter:**

1. More happiness

2. More cute, funny dwarves

3. Not much plot, oops

4. The book's a bit lacking in the personality description of the Master of Lake Town, so I filled in the holes based on how I imagined him to be. I also used a bit of Stephen Fry's description of him from _The Hobbit_ live preview.

5. Still no Bard, but stay tuned!

6. Finally, Talarin feels

This chapter is somewhat of a filler (in terms of book/movie plot, at least), but I wanted a simple, cute, happy thing because I was in a good mood. I really enjoyed writing this, so I hope you enjoy reading it!

**Disclaimer**: Tolkien, Jackson, WB, etc have rights to most things. I'm just borrowing.

* * *

**Chapter 22: Dwarf Defenders**

By that afternoon, Talaitha had regained enough strength to move out of the healing ward and into her new quarters near the Company. Thorin accompanied her as she limped across the wooden planks, one hand on his arm for support and the other clutching Ori's card. The vase of flowers Dori had picked for her were being carried by Bilbo, who followed the pair.

"It just occurred to me," the hobbit said suddenly. "Belladonna is a toxic plant."

"Indeed, but in small doses, it is often effective in countering many poisons," Talaitha replied. "The antidote also had red clover, which cleanses the blood."

"How did you know the healer would use the correct amount?" asked Bilbo. "It seems an awful lot of faith in a stranger."

Thorin grunted in agreement, which prompted Talaitha to lightly pinch his arm. "I didn't, but I was probably going to die anyway." She shrugged.

Talaitha saw the dwarf's glower but ignored it. She realized that perhaps she wasn't taking her poisoning seriously enough, but although she knew Bilbo and Thorin had worried, it was the only way she could cope with the experience. If she thought about how close to death she'd come, a near-debilitating panic set in. She couldn't risk that, for she needed to remain clear-headed, especially now that they were so close to Erebor. And to Smaug.

Their proximity to the place where most of Thorin's kin had died was starting to affect him. He hadn't said anything-not to Talaitha, at least-, but she felt the tension radiating from him. Now that the happy reunion between her and the dwarves had past, Thorin's jaw clenched tightly, the muscles in the arm she held were firm and taut, not relaxed like they usually were when she touched him.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, as though he'd sensed her thoughts. She must have looked anxious, or at least deeply contemplative, for he placed his free hand on hers and gave her the barest of smiles. But it was enough. Whatever he felt-anger, grief, guilt, responsibility-, it wasn't more than he could handle.

#

The people of Lake Town had never seen a szelemér before. Nor, for that matter, had they seen a hobbit. Bilbo had been explaining the differences between hobbits and dwarves since they'd arrived, and he was growing weary of it. No, hobbits are not dwarves. No, we don't grow beards. Yes, we have hair on our feet instead. No, we're not like elves either, even though our ears are pointed, too. Yes, there are more of my kind.

The humans questioned Talaitha similarly during dinner, which was the first time she'd joined them for a meal since arriving.

_Are you a dwarf? I thought their women-folk had beards, too._

_Beggin' your pardon, miss, but you're awfully short for an elf._

_You look like the hobbit. Do you have hairy feet, too?_

_If you're a fairy, where are your wings? _

_Can you do magic?_

The dwarves watched the interview with amusement, chuckling every time she turned her back to the humans to prove that she did not, in fact, have wings. Bofur and Kili even joined in, asking why she was wearing a child's dress, to which she replied with a string of Szila curses. Though the two dwarves didn't understand her words, they grasped the meaning, and their grins grew even wider.

"I've given the seamstress my measurements," she said, tossing a grape at Kili, who was still laughing. "I should have a proper dress by tomorrow."

Beside her, Thorin tried to hide his smirk. The dress Talaitha wore was pink with bright flowers and was clearly intended for a young girl. It made her features look even more youthful, to the point that Thorin hesitated before he took her hand beneath the table. A sense of calm washed over him as she entwined her fingers with him, and as he took a swig of his ale, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so content.

That happiness, however, was short-lived. The Master silenced the light-hearted banter when he raised his wine glass in a toast to Talaitha's recovery. But the fairy saw through the man's polite and welcoming facade; he only cared about what Thorin and Company could do for him. And as she glanced at the dwarf king, she knew the same thought was running through his mind, for he regarded the Master with thinly-veiled distaste.

"Now, milady, I am rather curious about your attack," said the man, then quickly added, "If it is not too traumatic to speak of."

Talaitha forced a smile. "I can speak of it," she replied. "What would you like to know?"

"How many orcs were there? Do you believe they will pursue you?"

_You mean_, Talaitha thought wryly. _Do I believe they're a threat to you_.

But she said, "About a dozen, I think. And I have no reason to believe they were after me. It's more likely that their intended target was my elf companion."

That was a lie, for the orcs had no reason to harm Legolas. She knew some of the orcs from the scouting party had been present outside the goblin tunnels, so some of them had probably recognized her. She'd even remembered the one with a large, metal spike pierced through his septum; it was difficult to forget such a brutal "decoration."

"I did not realize orcs had quarrel with the wood elves."

"Orcs have quarrel with most races," Talaitha said, then shrugged. "I do not know their business, nor do I wish to, but you must admit that I am hardly someone who would interest them."

The Master considered her words for a few seconds, then nodded slightly, apparently satisfied with her explanation. "Embla tells me you, too, are a healer."

The woman who'd tended to Talaitha had never mentioned her name, so the fairy furrowed her eyebrows in confusion for a second before comprehension dawned. "Indeed I am," she replied. "I have traveled to many places in Middle-earth as a healer."

"And that is how you met the elf prince?"

Talaitha nodded, not daring to glance at Thorin when she felt him stiffen slightly beside her. "Though before the attack, I had not seen him for quite some time."

"He seemed rather concerned about you," said the Master, eyes glinting with his unspoken meaning. "At least from what the guards told me."

"As I would be for him, had our circumstances been reversed," she said lightly, eating a piece of duck. "That is customary of friends, is it not?"

Her question was rhetorical, and the Master ignored it. "Your _friends_ are many, milady," he said mildly, spreading his arms wide at the head of the table. "Dwarves, elves, and a halfling."

Talaitha felt Thorin tense, and his thumb ceased its comforting circles on her knuckle. She squeezed his hand in a silent reminder to remain calm, though she, too, was riled by the insinuation that she'd had intimate relations with the Company, Legolas, and Bilbo. The rest of the dwarves watched the uneasy exchange, their glares matching Thorin's.

She wasn't sure what the Master's intent was, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of know he'd unsettled her. She stifled her indignation. "It is useful when one travels as much as I do."

"Useful. Yes."

Before Talaitha could reply, Thorin stood. "Thank you for your hospitality tonight, but I believe it is time we retired." His tone was firm and laced with warning.

If the Master was daunted, he didn't show it, but his leer had been replaced with a smile, disingenuous though it was. "Yes, of course," he said cheerfully. "I bid you all a good night, then, and shall see you in the morning."

Thorin nodded to the Company and pulled Talaitha to her feet. She didn't _need_ his help, but she smiled up at him in thanks anyway. When her injured thigh muscle twinged in pain, however, she wished he would offer her his arm again.

Once the dwarves were out of earshot of the Master and his men, the complaints began.

"Can you believe that?" asked Bofur.

"Disrespecting our fairy," said Dori with a disapproving shake of his head.

"Our Talaitha is more of a lady than _that_," Ori agreed.

"I didn't like him even when I met him," Bilbo chimed in primly.

Nori nodded. "Rude bastard."

Kili appeared beside Talaitha. "Do you want us to knock him around a bit?"

"Because we can, you know," Fili joined in.

"Isn't that right, Mr. Dwalin?" Kili glanced back at the tattooed warrior, who nodded curtly.

Thorin hid his smirk from the dwarves, not wanting them to think he supported their threats toward the Master. The fact was, the Company needed Lake Town's assistance to reclaim Erebor. Even if the Master didn't offer soldiers, any supplies and provisions he gave would be crucial, for nearly all had been lost in Mirkwood. Thus, Thorin had no choice but to treat him with civility, though he wanted nothing more than to punch the man's leering face.

He was about to quiet his men, when Talaitha stopped and turned to face her defenders. "I am truly grateful for your concern on my behalf," she said, a wry smile on her lips. "But unfortunately, the Master of Lake Town controls the food stores. And we will need all the help we can get if we are to defeat Smaug."

She kissed each one on the cheek, giggling at their reactions. Fili appeared quite pleased with himself; Kili grinned mischievously, worrying Thorin; Dwalin grumbled but didn't move away; Bofur placed a hand to his cheek; Bilbo smiled; and Dori and Ori blushed. Not for the first time, Talaitha felt a wave of affection for the motley group of dwarves. They were uncouth and enjoyed a good fight more than was healthy, but they were also loyal to the bone.

#

After the dwarves and Bilbo had dispersed in the direction of their quarters, Thorin turned to Talaitha. She was gazing up at the crescent moon with a small smile. He wondered what story she was concocting this time. He didn't have to wait long for an answer.

"I don't think anyone could live on a crescent moon," she said. "They would slide right down the curve."

Thorin allowed himself to relax and lower his defenses, as he often did with her. "Perhaps they hang from the edge like our miners."

"There are too many people living on the moon," she disagreed, completely serious. "And not enough surface to anchor them."

"Then perhaps the phases of the moon are simply a magical illusion." He briefly thought that this conversation was bordering on absurdity, and that four months ago, he'd have scoffed at the idea of people on the moon. But four months ago, he was a different, unhappier dwarf, consumed by anger, vengeance, and obligation.

Talaitha considered his suggestion, then nodded. "An illusion to keep the moon-people's existence a secret."

"Indeed." Thorin smiled fondly. He tucked a copper curl behind her pointed ear, his finger lingering on the tip. "You are unlike anyone I've met." The words echoed those on the first night in the Misty Mountains.

She grinned, playing along. "Have you met many fairies?"

"That is not how I meant it, you silly woman," he replied gruffly.

Then, before she could say her line, he placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her. Their lips melded together perfectly, his surprisingly gentle and soft against hers. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she boldly parted her lips and touched her tongue to his, smiling when his hands encircled her slim waist, his fingers pressing ever so slightly against the curve of her hips. They kissed like that-languidly tasting each other-until footsteps thudded towards them on the wooden boardwalk.

They broke apart, but Thorin wasn't finished with her yet. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her into the shadows, where they waited for the guard to pass. When he had, Thorin captured her lips once more, though this time, their kisses were more insistent. With their bodies flush against each other, Talaitha felt his long-suppressed desire, and her breath hitched.

"Did I hurt you?" Thorin asked. "Is it your thigh?"

"It's more of what's pressing _into_ my thigh," she said, smirking.

He leaned his forehead to hers. "I can no longer deny the effect you have on me." His fingers tightened on her waist before he breathed deeply and moved away. "Come, we should sleep."

Talaitha furrowed her eyebrows. "But I thought you wanted-"

"_Mahal_. I do," Thorin groaned. "And we will continue this when you have recovered completely."

Despite his obvious desire, he looked so adamant that Talaitha didn't protest, though she did have one request. "Will you stay with me tonight?" She met his gaze, and he saw her uncertainty. "I do not wish to be alone."

He smiled and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "I do not wish to be alone either."


	23. Chapter 23: Twice Interrupted

Hello!

This is going to be a short author's note; I'm tired and had a pretty foul weekend. Let's just say that sometimes family sucks...

Anyway, enough with dour ramblings! As always, thank you for your continued interest in this story. You all are fantabulous!

An Echo In Time: There are few things better than fluff to wake up to. We really do need our own motley group of dwarves to cheer us up sometimes. :)

Just4Me: Heating up? We've just entered a simmer. ;) Don't worry too much about Thorin and his nephews; they're in good hands.

xxxMadameMysteryxxx: Thank you! :)

Abyss Prime: I don't know, I'm rather happily single. Although, if Thorin showed up at my door, I might reevaluate that. XD

sunkissed13: Lol, thanks for the suggestions. :) I've no idea how this story will progress until I sit down to write the chapter; its course depends on the characters (they really do dictate pace and flow for me) and my mood at the time. XD

HogwartsDwarfKat: I'll gladly take you up on your offer to help kidnap characters!

Novamyth: And Thorin-the-romantic doesn't end there!

LianaDare8: Yes, we've now moved to a simmer. XD

**About this chapter**:

1. I had a shit weekend, so I indulged. Yes, there is more lovey-dovey Talarin. Lovey-dovey and heated. And I regret none of it.

2. Every time we meet a new race or culture, I get excited because it means I can pick out Talaitha's outfits. XD From Tolkien's description, I imagined the people of Lake Town to wear sort of Nordic/Viking-inspired clothes. An image of the dress Talaitha wears in this chapter can be found on my profile.

3. Not too much plot here, but the canon will resume next chapter.

**Disclaimer**: I only own Talaitha and Szélvész, who is due for an appearance.

I hope this chapter satisfies! I certainly enjoyed writing it. ;D

* * *

**Chapter 23: Twice Interrupted**

The following morning, Talaitha awoke to Thorin's arm around her middle, his bare chest pressed against her back, and his beard scraping lightly against the dip between her neck and shoulder. From his slow, steady breathing, she knew he was still asleep, so she moved away from him as carefully as she could. But as she lifted his arm, it tightened around her, as if by reflex.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked gruffly, pulling her flush against him.

With his morning erection against her thigh and his fingers splayed across her belly, a heat rushed through her that had nothing to do with the warmth the dwarf exuded. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to continue what they'd begun last night. Thorin, however, had been insistent they wait until her wound healed, but that didn't mean she couldn't tempt him.

"Nowhere now," she replied, shifting so that her butt grazed his erection.

Thorin groaned, burying his face in Talaitha's curls. She repeated the motion and grinned when his hand moved from her stomach to her hip, at first pulling her into him, then tightening to stop her movements.

"I stand firmly in my belief that we should wait," he said, though she noted his voice had deepened.

"You stand firmly in other ways, too."

Thorin smirked as he turned her gently in his arms to face him. "Kili was right," he said, trailing a hand down her uninjured thigh. "You're a little minx."

"I'm a szelemér," she said simply, as though that explained everything.

"Is it common for szelemér females to tempt males?" he asked with a quirked brow, though he wasn't sure how he felt about Talaitha potentially behaving similarly with other men.

"It depends," she answered with a one-shouldered shrug. "We are certainly bolder than the women-folk of other races I've encountered."

"So I've noticed." His gaze darkened as it dipped below the low neckline of her nightgown to the valley between her breasts.

Talaitha's voice lost its teasing tone as she hesitated. "Sometimes...it gives people who are unfamiliar with the szelemér the wrong impression." She didn't look at him.

He knew she was referring to the Master's insinuations yesterday. "Do not concern yourself with them."

"I don't," she said, her eyes still downcast. "Not for myself, at least."

The sudden change in Talaitha's demeanor-meek and uncertain-tugged at Thorin's heart, and he suddenly hated Lake Town's Master for being the cause of it. He tilted up her chin so that their gazes met and kissed her tenderly.

"_I_ do not concern myself with them," he said, kissing her once more to lend credence to his assertion.

She smiled, reassured, and he thought then that he never wanted her to doubt his affection or respect for her.

"You must admit, though, that it is not every day a woman travels with thirteen men across Middle-earth. One can hardly blame people for their assumptions and curiosity about me."

"It is true," said Thorin, nodding. "I, too, was initially reluctant to allow you to accompany us, but I have never regretted it." He kissed her a third time. "Rather, I have come to enjoy your inclusion."

"Indeed," she replied. "That much is quite obvious."

Thorin jerked slightly when Talaitha's hand brushed over his softening erection, which began to harden again under her touch. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, peppering it with kisses until her hand closed around his clothed cock. Then he lightly bit her skin, moving lower and lower to the tops of her breasts. The sheer nightgown barely concealed the twin mounds, and as he cupped one of them through the fabric, her hand tightened around him.

"Mahal," he groaned, using his free hand to sling her uninjured thigh over his hip. With his help, she shifted so that she was perched on top of him, knees bent on either side of his legs. He noticed she put most of her weight on the uninjured leg.

"Perhaps we should reposition," he said, but as she lowered herself to sit on his legs, the suggestion fled his mind. "Or not."

Talaitha smirked and began moving her hand on his still-clothed erection, enjoying the way his hands tightened on her hips. Her other hand trailed up and down his bare torso, lingering over his chest and stomach muscles, the latter of which tensed beneath her fingers. He really was beautiful, she thought, with his sun-kissed skin and broad, strong shoulders that tapered into the hard lines of his abdomen.

She'd been so absorbed in her admiration that she hadn't noticed his hands had left her hips until suddenly, they were on her breasts, kneading them through the silk nightdress. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and her eyes fluttered shut, which pleased Thorin. His cocked twitched in agreement.

And then there was a knock at the door. Thorin could have growled in frustration.

"I'd better see who that is," Talaitha said, her voice still tinged by lust.

She stood, taking a few seconds to compose herself, and wrapped a robe over her revealing nightgown, further souring the dwarf's mood. Even though he'd insisted on waiting until she'd fully recovered, his cock had had other ideas.

Talaitha returned with a handful of clothes. The seamstresses had been busy, for they'd altered and sewn four dresses that would fit the fairy's smaller frame. As she spread them out on the bed, Thorin's brows furrowed.

"I preferred what you wore in Bag End," he said, moving behind her to wrap his arms around her waist.

She picked up a red, linen gown with bell sleeves and embroidered edges. "This one is quite lovely, though."

He rested his head on her shoulder, smiling slightly when she leaned back into him. "It will be on you."

"You are sweet," she said, placing a hand over his. "Much more so than I believed possible back in Bag End."

"Aye," he whispered, kissing her neck. "I shall leave you to dress. We'll meet at breakfast?"

She turned in his arms and touched her lips to his. "We'll meet at breakfast."

#

The morning meal had been blessedly uneventful. The Master, it seemed, had learned manners overnight, for he spoke courteously to Talaitha, especially after she expressed her desire to aid Lake Town's healers during the Company's sojourn. Thorin had fixed her with a hard look, but she'd ignored it. Healing was in her nature; she could no more deny it than Thorin could his quest to reclaim Erebor.

Afterwards, the dwarf king pulled her aside. He did not look pleased.

"I was hoping you'd stay with us," he said. "That you'd join us for training, if only to keep me company." His gaze flicked down to her thigh.

"I _will_ join you all in the afternoons and evenings," she replied. "Besides, you and I can practice privately. Would that not be more enjoyable?"

He couldn't be sure, but he thought he sensed a double meaning to her words, something more erotic than mere swordplay. His cock twitched in anticipation. Did she know how strongly she affected him? Probably, which was why she was teasing him. Well, two could play that game.

"Perhaps," he said nonchalantly. "But I have always found sparring with different partners rather enjoyable."

Talaitha's eyes narrowed. "Is that so?" Thorin nodded. "Then you clearly have no need of me, for you have plenty of variety with thirteen." She turned, then, and began walking away, but he caught the edge of her billowing sleeve.

"Do I sense jealousy?" He smirked.

She gazed at him mildly, though he saw a hint of amusement in her eyes. "That you prefer the others over me? Not at all. Merely surprise."

He moved closer to her, his fingers still holding her sleeve. "Maybe I have a favorite."

"Everyone does."

"Aye, but not everyone is as fortunate as I."

She smiled, but her reply was cut short when Kili bounded over to them. Thorin resisted the urge to glare at his nephew.

"I know you're going off to heal now, Laitha" said the young dwarf. "But you'd better come train with us after. You owe me a rematch."

"I will come," she assured, then smirked as Kili rejoined the others. She looked at Thorin again and inclined her head toward the group. "They're waiting for you."

He nodded. "I'll see you this afternoon."

"You shall."

As he released her sleeve, he allowed his hand to brush hers, bringing a small smile to her lips. It was all he dared to do in front of his men, but it was enough.

#

"Bilbo, parry!" Thorin shouted as the hobbit's little sword clashed harmlessly against his. "That won't stop your enemy."

"Honestly," Bilbo panted. "Even if I parry a strike, I won't win."

"You won't if you keep thinking like that," said the dwarf king gruffly. "If your opponent sees your uncertainty, he will take advantage of it. You cannot allow that."

"Hobbits weren't meant to fight, Thorin!" Bilbo was becoming exasperated. He'd been sparring with Thorin for the past hour and hadn't improved much.

"You killed that orc outside the goblin tunnels. You fought against the spiders. You may not become a warrior, but you _will_ learn to defend yourself."

Bilbo sighed and sat down on a log. They were on an island in the middle of the Long Lake instead of the town's training grounds, for Thorin wanted to avoid the residents as much as possible, especially while sparring. Bilbo didn't mind _that_; it was enough to embarrass himself in front of the dwarves. But he did mind the light rain that had begun to fall. He was just shaking off a cold, and now he feared it would return.

"I'm not like Talaitha," said the hobbit. "She's adventurous. She can fight. You should have made her your burglar."

Thorin resisted the urge to smile, not only because of the mention of the fairy. He sat beside Bilbo and picked up his small, elvish blade. "Does it have a name?"

Bilbo stared at the sword, at how the dwarf twirled it and checked its balance. "Sting," he replied with a small smile. "I named it after the spiders attacked us."

"A fitting name," said Thorin, handing the blade back to Bilbo. "I am loathe to admit the elves make fine swords."

The hobbit was silent for a while, listening to the sounds of the sparring dwarves and the rain splashing lightly against the grass. Something had been niggling in the back of his mind, a question he'd had since finding Orcrist, Glamdring, and Sting in the trolls' cave.

"If yours and Gandalf's blades are elf-made, too, why don't they glow blue when orcs and goblins are near?"

"Yours does?" Thorin asked, surprised, for he hadn't paid much attention to the little sword until now. At Bilbo's nod, he shrugged. "Do not attempt to understand elves. You will not succeed."

"And fairies?" Bilbo prompted hesitantly.

"Nor them," said Thorin, though his tone was much kinder than when he spoke of elves.

"I suppose you're right," mused Bilbo. "I _still_ don't completely understand Talaitha."

As if summoned by magic, the subject of their discussion was climbing out of a rowboat with Balin's help. Even from the distance, Thorin could see the slight limp in her step. He would carry her if he could-if she'd allow (though he knew she wouldn't)-to spare her from pain.

"You do realize it's raining, don't you?" He heard her ask the dwarves, who'd paused in their sparring. Talaitha's arrival was as good a time as any for a break.

Bilbo glanced at Thorin; he was watching the fairy with soft, blue eyes. Bilbo wouldn't believe the dwarf king capable of such an expression if he hadn't seen it himself. It was as if the weight of Thorin's burdens, of his people's fate lightened in Talaitha's presence.

The hobbit must have been staring too intently, for the dwarf's hard tone pulled him from his thoughts. "What is it?"

Thorin knew what had captured Bilbo's attention, and he silently berated himself for displaying his emotions so plainly. It was unbefitting of a king, especially one who'd been exiled and was on the brink of reclaiming his kin's homeland. He glared at the hobbit, daring him to comment on his slip-up.

"Nothing," Bilbo mumbled. "I'll just go say hello to Talaitha then."

Thorin watched Talaitha's face break into a grin at the hobbit's disgruntled expression. Though he couldn't hear what Bilbo was saying, he guessed it had something to do with their hour-long sparring match, for he accented his speech with periodic slashing motions of his arm. The sound of Talaitha's laughter floated towards him, and he fought the urge to smile, especially when Balin sat beside him on the log.

The white-haired dwarf was silent for a few seconds, observing Thorin with a very Gandalf-like glint in his eyes. He'd suspected the younger dwarf had grown fond of the fairy-they all had-, but he hadn't realized the extent of Thorin's affection until now. He cleared his throat, tearing the dwarf king's gaze away from Talaitha.

"We must begin preparations soon," Balin said. "It could take a while to negotiate with the Master."

Thorin nodded. No matter what the man's price would be for supplies, Thorin couldn't pay it yet. He just had to hope that the man would be reasonable enough to agree to defer the Company's payment until Erebor was won and its riches reclaimed.

"Smaug's destruction is in his benefit, too," Thorin reminded. "The people of Lake Town live with the threat of attack. They glance warily at the mountain."

"Yes," Balin said. "But if the Master does not believe we will succeed, he may not waste resources on us."

And that was the bitter truth. What Thorin and Company intended to do was tantamount to suicide in the eyes of most people. As much as he disliked the Master, the dwarf king couldn't fault him for hesitating to give precious food for what might likely be a fruitless endeavor.

As he looked at his companions, Thorin's heart felt heavy with fear and doubt. He'd asked for their help, and they had come. But they scarcely knew the horror he was leading them to-leading his own nephews to-, and the guilt that he'd usually stifled surged forth. Yet he had no choice; he had to finish what his father started. He had to give his people back their home.

Thorin's gaze was stormy as he nodded solemnly at Balin. "We begin tomorrow."


	24. Chapter 24: Reminiscences

Hi!

Yup, I'm a day late, and I apologize for that. I intended to finish this chapter, polish it, and post it last night, but it'd been a very long, very social day, and I pretty much fell asleep in the middle of it. :/ But it might have been for the best actually, because the extra day allowed me to make it better and longer.

The next update won't be for another week, might even be a tiny bit later, as Sunday I'm flying back to America. I'll see how much time I have for writing Friday/Saturday in between packing and getting the flat sorted before I leave. But I _will_ have an update next week no matter what.

Your response to this story never ceases to make me happy. :)

K. M. Birch : I'm glad you're enjoying the story! Lol, it's funny that you mention Snow White, because the same thing went through my mind after I'd written that scene, especially since I'd seen the ballet this summer. XD By the way, I took your suggestion (making Talaitha uninterested in Thorin) because I liked it.

odagiriryu: Boy, that's one tricky name to spell! :p But thank you for your review. :)

Agent007Tomato: *nods* Flirting Thorin is irresistibly charming!

AbyssPrime: If he comes around here, I'll be sure to send him your way. ;)

AmethystSiri: Thank you! :)))

IceheartsChill: Lmao, sleep more! But somewhere in there was a compliment, and I thank you for it with equal enthusiasm! :D Lots of loves from me, too, dear.

Love4Me: Yes, that weekend turned out to be a boon for fluff. Nice save at the end of your review, btw. ;)

LianaDare8: Every time Talarin snogs, I think of you. XD

**In this chapter:**

1. Finally got back on track with the plot stuffs.

2. Someone mentioned that Talarin was becoming too comfortable, and I agreed. So I fixed. Or broke?

3. Cute kids.

4. You can blame Richard Armitage for the second half of the chapter. Don't know what I mean? Watch the Popcorn Taxi fan Q&A.

5. In-character Thorin. He'd been acting peculiarly the last two chapters.

**Disclaimer**: I only own Talaitha.

*skips off to drool at Lee Pace*

Enjoy! The second half of this chapter was _fun_ to write. :)

* * *

**Chapter 24: Reminiscences **

"You cannot be serious," the Master breathed, agape. "Our forefathers, who were far greater in number, were massacred by the dragon, and you believe your fourteen will fare differently?"

Thorin quelled his irritation in favor of diplomacy, but he couldn't help the slight edge in his voice as he replied, "I believe my fourteen have a better chance of success than anyone else."

"Surely an army would be more effective," the Master mocked.

"Surely," said Thorin darkly. "But there is no army. There is only my Company."

The Master snorted. "Aye, a company that includes a halfling and a woman."

Some of the councilors snickered, and Thorin barely stopped himself from punching them in their large, greasy faces. He'd spent decades enduring man's ridicule; he could suffer through it one last time if it ensured he would receive assistance in his quest.

"A burglar and a healer," the dwarf king corrected. "The latter of whom is aiding your ill and injured as we speak."

The men sobered, for Talaitha had tended to a council member's child yesterday. The injury-a fractured arm-hadn't been serious, but the fairy gave him a draught to numb the pain while she set the bone. The parents were spared seeing their child hurting, and it seemed the councilors remembered that now.

"Be that as it may," said the Master. "But you cannot take back your mountain if you're captive."

"What?" Thorin hissed, his hand moving to Orcrist's hilt. The man's taunting tone reminded the him of the goblin king, and his next words even more so.

"I received a message from the elvish king that a troupe of dwarves had escaped from his dungeon." The Master smirked at Thorin as he unfolded the letter and read it aloud. The dwarf's expression grew darker with each sentence until he was glaring at the man.

"My Company and I were wrongly imprisoned," Thorin growled. "We caused the elves no harm."

The Master shrugged. "You trespassed and that was enough." He held up a hand to silence Thorin's protests. "The feud between dwarves and elves is of no concern to me, but Thranduil is an ally Lake Town cannot afford to lose."

The man's threat was unspoken, but it nevertheless rang loudly and clearly in Thorin's mind. He felt a powerful anger boiling forth, and it took all his strength to restrain it. Even so, some of the councilors eyed him warily, taking a step back as he strode toward the Master.

"You would hand us over to that _elf_?" Thorin spat furiously. "The halfling who is but a child in your eyes. The woman who even now wishes to help your people, though she be foolish for it." Though he was much shorter than the Master, as their gazes met, he detected a flash of fear in the man's eyes, yet he did not flinch. "I spent years toiling in human towns to support my kin, yearning for the day I could give them back their home. Over a century later, that desire still fuels me, and if goblins and orcs haven't deterred me, your pathetic threats won't either."

Thorin realized he was treading on dangerous ground; he was outnumbered here, and if the Master really intended to give him and his men back to Thranduil, he'd be powerless to stop it. Yet he also knew men to be a greedy, self-serving race. If Thorin offered the Master a better alternative, Lake Town's friendship with Mirkwood would suddenly become less important. Besides, the elf prince was aware of the Company's presence in Lake Town and had apparently not informed his father. That had to count for something.

The Master laughed, and if Thorin had been a wolf, his hackles would have raised. "Do not think I would hesitate to make good on my threats." As proof, he motioned to his guards, who surrounded Thorin with their weapons drawn. The dwarf's expression turned neutral, though he was mentally calculating his odds of success should the men attack him. They were in his favor, though barely.

"Then why have you not done so already?" asked Thorin.

Some of the councilors raised their eyebrows in surprise. Was the dwarf taunting the Master? Or calling out his bluff? Either way, it was a risky gamble, and Thorin knew it, too.

"Give me one reason I should not."

Thorin nearly smirked; the man's self-serving nature had appeared again. Oh, he would do what was best for Lake Town but only if it was also best for himself. If he stood to lose for his town's gain, his loyalty to it wavered. And so, Thorin understood the Master's silent question: Can you offer me more than Thranduil?

"I will defeat Smaug," the dwarf answered simply.

The Master watched Thorin with an unreadable expression, then dismissed the councilors and guards, the latter of whom looked nervously between the dwarf, with his obvious anger, and their superior before they left the room. Thorin hid his confusion; why would the man leave himself unprotected?

"The dragon could already be dead for all you know," said the Master. "It's been quiet for sixty years now."

Thorin smiled mirthlessly. "Smaug still lives, you can be sure of that. Dragons, like the elves, are regrettably long-lived beasts." He couldn't keep the animosity from his tone, though it was better to direct it at dragons and elves than at the Master.

"It's never been a problem to us before," said the Master, shrugging. "We left it alone, and it left us alone. Thus, Lake Town would gain little in the unlikely event that you should succeed in killing it."

"Your people wouldn't have to live in fear of attack anymore. Is that not a gain?" But Thorin didn't allow the Master to reply. "Sooner or later, Smaug _will_ wake, and when he does, Lake Town will be in danger."

"Perhaps, but that may not be in my lifetime."

_Now_ Thorin understood why the man had dismissed his men. The sheer indifference with which the Master said that incensed Thorin, and he felt an overwhelming wave of disgust for the man. He wasn't always proud of himself, of his actions, but he would never view so callously the present or future well-being of his people. Yet despite his outrage, he could not afford to antagonize the man too much.

"Or it could be next week," the dwarf replied coolly. "My Company and I are willing to march on Erebor to kill Smaug. All we ask for is assistance."

The Master considered Thorin's words. The dwarf looked and sounded sincere-determined, as though he had to finish his quest, or else whatever fire that drove him would be extinguished. But passion did not necessarily beget success.

"I cannot give you men," the Master said finally.

"I understand," Thorin nodded, not daring to hope.

"A week's worth of food. No more."

"That shall suffice."

But the Master wasn't finished, to the dwarf's dismay. "...For the girl."

"No," Thorin growled. "She comes with us."

"Then no deal." The Master shrugged, about to turn away.

Thorin gritted his teeth and reminded himself that this _begging_ was the only way to help his kin. "Once we've reclaimed Erebor, I will give you gold."

The man scoffed. "Why should I trust your word?"

"Trust it or don't. It's your choice," Thorin said nonchalantly. Again he gambled, but he figured he didn't really have anything to lose at this point.

The Master was silent for a long time; then, he nodded. "Master dwarf, it seems we've reached an agreement."

#

When Thorin entered the healing ward later that day, he wasn't entirely surprised to find Talaitha surrounded by children. They seemed to like her, perhaps because she was closer to their size than most adults, or perhaps because they sensed that she liked them, too. Bilbo had mentioned she spent quite a bit of time with the hobbit children, but this was the first time he had seen her interact with little ones, and he couldn't suppress the resulting tightness in his chest. A young boy, no more than four-years-old, sat in her lap, his right arm splinted and in a sling. He must be the child who'd broken his arm yesterday. But what struck Thorin was how at ease with each other they both appeared; for a second, he allowed himself to imagine her holding their son like that. When she looked up at him, he quickly pushed the thought aside.

"Thorin," Talaitha greeted with a smile that quickened his heartbeat. "I was just about to tell them a story. Perhaps you can help me?"

He glanced at the children, who were watching him with expectant, curious faces. "I'm no story-teller."

The children looked disappointed, and he almost regretted saying no to them. Almost. He could weave a tale, certainly, but it would not be a happy one.

"What story do you want to hear?" Talaitha asked the young congregation. Her wry smile made Thorin suspicious.

"The dragon's mountain!"

"You hear that? I'm hardly qualified to tell them about Erebor, as I, too, only know tales."

She continued to smile at him, even after he flashed her a warning glare, and he silently cursed himself for his weak resolve. He could deny her nothing. With a sigh, he leaned against one of the beds and crossed his arms across his chest.

"If you're expecting a positive account of the dragon, you'll be disappointed," he cautioned solemnly. The children nodded, understanding. He looked to Talaitha, a silent question in his eyes, for he did not know how to begin. But she did.

_Once upon a time, there was a young dwarf prince. He took after his grandfather, the mighty king, in many ways, and he was already a very skilled warrior. So skilled, in fact, that his grandfather assigned him his own legion when he was only twenty-four-years-old._

"But that's a grown up!" protested one of the children, a ginger-haired boy.

"In humans years, yes," Talaitha replied. "But not in dwarf years. Dwarves live about twice as long as humans, so twenty-four is barely an adolescent to them."

Thorin resisted the urge to raise his eyebrows in surprise. She knew more about his kind than she'd intimated. He wasn't sure if he should be pleased or uneasy. What other knowledge was she hiding?

_The prince accompanied his father and grandfather to council sessions and meetings with other important people, even elves. He learned about the world beyond Erebor's marble and rock walls, but he was content to remain with his people, for that was where his duty lie. He was a true prince in every way, and his grandfather was proud. Yet despite his royal status, he mingled with the common folk, especially while smithing. _

"Why did the prince learn how to be a blacksmith?" asked a blonde girl. She was in the healing ward with a deep cut to her leg.

"Because he thought it a useful skill," Talaitha shrugged. "It enabled him to choose the finest weapon possible, or even make it himself."

The girl wrinkled her nose. "But it's messy. My father's a blacksmith, and he comes home every night sweaty and dirty."

Thorin's lips quirked into a smirk as he regarded the child. "You're right," he said, amused. "It's unbefitting of a prince."

Talaitha, too, smiled at the girl. "But our prince is a dwarf, don't forget. He is not afraid of a little sweat and dirt."

"Did he make himself a sword?" asked the little boy in her lap, twisting his torso to look up at her.

"He did," she nodded. "And a very strong one at that. It served him well for many years, through many battles."

"What happened to it?"

Talaitha glanced at Thorin out of the corner of her eye, then smiled sadly. "It was lost." _And replaced with, of all things, an elvish blade_, she thought with a hint of humor. "But enough with the weapon talk. Back to the story."

_One day while training, one of his men lost his footing and took a bad fall. Because our prince was a noble dwarf, he left his closest friend and most talented warrior in charge and escorted the soldier to the healing ward himself, instead of sending him with a servant. And in the healing ward, he-_

"-Met a young woman," Thorin's deep voice interrupted. "A young healer, actually."

Talaitha's head snapped up to him in surprise, and she barely suppressed a gasp. Even so, she stared at him for a little too long, for the children looked at her curiously. It was only when Thorin quirked an eyebrow that she shook off the daze. His blue eyes held a mischief she'd only seen a few times.

"The healer tended to the soldier's injury, which turned out to be a mild ankle sprain, and moved on to her next patient," said Talaitha once she'd recovered from her shock.

"And the prince returned to his men, but he couldn't get the pretty healer out of his head." Thorin didn't have to look at Talaitha for a blush to creep into her cheeks. Luckily, the children were too focused on him to notice.

"But she hadn't given the prince a second thought, though he was quite handsome." Talaitha saw the slight smirk on Thorin's lips. "It was simply beyond her grasp that royalty could have any interest in her, for she was a commoner."

"Aye," said Thorin. "Yet she intrigued him, and he sought her out, finding excuses to go to the healing ward."

"Until one afternoon, she finally confronted him." Now it was her turn to smirk. "She asked him if he had a _delicate_ illness or injury, one that he might be embarrassed to tell anyone else about."

"Like what?" asked a black-haired boy. He'd dislocated his shoulder earlier that day when he fell from a tree.

"Well, what's the most embarrassing ailment you can think of?" asked Talaitha.

The children chorused their replies.

"Upset stomach!"

"Falling off a chair and breaking a bone!"

"Tumbling down a hill!"

"Tripping and breaking your nose!"

"A cold when your nose drips!"

"Choking on a grape."

That last answer sounded so sheepish that Talaitha laughed, and even Thorin indulged the kids with a smile.

"Those are sufficiently embarrassing for our prince," Talaitha continued. "I'll let you choose for yourselves which the healer suspected."

"But the healer could wonder all she wanted, for he was neither ill nor injured," said Thorin. "Unless falling under a woman's charm counted as an illness."

"The healer protested."

"The prince just smiled at her."

Before Thorin could continue, the blonde girl with the cut leg chimed in. "He should kiss her."

The other girls nodded sagely, while the boys made faces. But since there were more boys than girls in the children's healing ward, the kiss was vetoed.

"He can't kiss her," said Talaitha, smirking at Thorin. "For she was only a guest in the mountain, and tomorrow she'd return to her home."

"Where?" asked the little boy in her lap.

"Far away across the sea," Thorin answered, his voice faint. Talaitha's heart skipped a beat; she'd never heard him sound like that, especially not about her.

"But she gave him a lock of her hair," Talaitha said, watching Thorin. "And told him that when the time was right, they'd meet again."

"The next day, she was gone."

"And in her place, the dragon came."

Thorin would have glared at her for her insistence to recount the day Smaug attacked, were it not for the tenderness in her eyes as their gazes met. He couldn't be angry with her. And as he looked at the children's attentive and excited faces, he knew he could not disappoint _them_ either.

So he told them about the day Smaug attacked. How the wind had changed almost unnaturally. How terrifying the beast looked as it appeared in the distance, flying ever nearer to the mountain. How the people of Dale blew the warning horns and tried to escape. How the city crumbled around them as the dragon smashed roofs and walls and breathed orange-red fire. How Thorin had ushered everyone inside and bolted the massive marble and metal doors, knowing they wouldn't hold for long. How he'd stood at the front with the warriors and his father to defend his home and kin. How the doors were torn from their hinges as if made of paper and Smaug's cruel, reptilian eyes surveyed the dwarves. How the beast roared and entered with a burst of flames that missed Thorin and his father by mere inches. How others weren't as lucky. How the dragon slithered inside, graceful despite its size, stepping on, burning, or striking with its tail anyone who stood in the way. How Thorin's heart sank when he realized where his grandfather was, where Smaug was going. How he shoved a few panicked dwarves outside but ran _inside_ to drag out his grandfather. How the Arkenstone was lost, claimed by Smaug, along with all the gold and jewels. How he became a pauper prince that day.

But he didn't-couldn't-tell them about _her_.

When he finished, Talaitha gave him a soft, simple smile. He'd satisfied the children's curiosity.

#

At dinner that night, Thorin was even more taciturn than usual, though few really noticed. Most, including Bilbo, had simply attributed his mood to being reliant upon the ethically dubious Master of Lake Town, but Talaitha, Balin, and Dwalin knew better. Talaitha didn't know the _precise_ reason, but she was fairly certain it was related to the day Smaug attacked. His proximity to the mountain-after over a century-and recounting that holocaust had made him relive it in a way he hadn't done before, no matter how much he'd agonized over it in the years following. She feared the children's innocent request had not been so innocent after all.

"How is Bilbo's training coming along?" she asked Thorin in an attempt to pull him from his brooding.

"Better," he grunted, taking a long drink of his ale. He didn't place down his tankard, merely held it tightly with a faraway look in his eyes.

Talaitha shared a glance with Balin, but his solemn expression only worried her more. Dwalin was watching Thorin warily, as if expecting him to do something foolish. When Thorin pushed out his chair-the legs scraping against the wood floor-, Talaitha's head snapped up. He didn't look at her, at anyone, as he strode out of the dining hall. Bilbo's confused gaze met hers, but she just shook her head; she didn't know what prompted the dwarf to leave either. But Balin did, and he gave her the barest of nods.

Talaitha followed Thorin to a deserted dock from where Erebor was clearly visible. He didn't turn when he heard her approach. "After all these years..."

Talaitha waited for him to continue, but all he did was clench his fists, the muscles in his forearm tensing to where she could distinguish each one individually. She longed to run a finger along them, but somehow she knew he was not to be touched at that moment. So instead, she stood beside him, gazing at the mountain in the moonlight. It was stark and imposing, like some sort of warden standing watch over the surrounding lands. The lands it was supposed to but had failed to protect.

"You'll succeed."

Her soft reply seemed to jolt Thorin from his melancholia for a second, but when he looked down at her, it was with a sadness that squeezed Talaitha's heart like a vise.

"It is not the quest," he said with equal softness.

"Then what is it, Thorin?"

He gave her a small smile but shook his head slowly. "I do not wish to burden you."

"It is no burden, not when one cares about another."

But that seemed to be the wrong thing to say, for whatever emotion he'd shown was now shielded by a blank expression. So she tried a different tactic.

"Surely talking will relieve some of the weight." She grinned. "Besides, I'm stronger than I appear."

"Much more inquisitive, too," he quipped, but there was no venom behind his words. She waited, calling on the patience she'd cultivated during her decades as a healer, while he continued to stare at Erebor.

Then, finally, he spoke. "I loved someone once, a young dwarf maiden. She was a jeweler's daughter and was learning her father's trade."

Talaitha's heart sank. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been _this_. For all her humor, his confession hurt. And not just because his memories of her pained him. She tried to listen as he described her, but a part of her wanted to run away.

"Her hair was the color of spun gold, and her eyes were as blue as sapphires." A sad smile appeared on his lips. "But she was not of royal birth."

So he couldn't marry her. They could have their dalliances-and they did-, but inevitably, he would take a noble woman as his wife. Thrór could have changed the law had he been inclined to, but Thorin's pleas fell on uncaring ears. _A_ _king's duty is to his people, not to his heart_, he'd said.

"That morning she'd gone to Dale to sell her father's wares, as she did every market day." Thorin's voice wavered, and he inhaled sharply. "She didn't have a chance."

The urge to flee was almost maddening, but Talaitha shoved it aside. Thorin had laid his grief at her feet on her request; she had to endure both their pain now. But had she had any inkling of a past lover, she might not have been so curious. Only later would she realize it wasn't jealousy she'd felt. It was guilt.

"What was her name?" she asked once she'd controlled her own emotions.

"Riva."

Talaitha didn't acknowledge his reply aloud, and she didn't try to comfort him. They stood next to each other in silence, not touching, for minutes, until Talaitha quietly slipped away. Before she turned the corner, she glanced back at Thorin. He still stood in the same position, back rigid, shoulders tense, staring unseeingly at the mountain.

She felt cold.


	25. Chapter 25: Here and Real

Hello from Florida!

Yes, my nearly three-month-long sojourn in Budapest has unfortunately come to an end. :( But with it, I come bearing a new chapter! It's sort of short (1,572 words), but it's early. So yay for that?

There were 11 reviews for the last chapter; that's the most in a while. You all are awesome for your support of this story! :)

Abyss Prime: :( indeed.

Madeline: Bless you. :) My emotions run amok like a wild warg, too, while writing this story lol. Yup, Laitha's a princess, but now that Thorin's king (or will be soon), he _could_ technically change the rules... Not that he has to. But mean old Thrór refused. :( And don't be hard on Thorin; he tries.

Lizzie Oakenshield: Thank you so much for saying that; the main thing I think about when I write Talaitha is that she be relatable. She has flaws (and I'm excited some people pointed them out!) because I wanted to make her seem as believable as possible-how would you or I react to Thorin, the dwarves, the adventure, etc? But I've also tried to temper _that_ with the skills and experience necessary to be a functioning part of the Company, instead of just a pretty tag-along. So yeah, whenever someone mentions this, I get super happy. :D

I hope the resolution lives up to what you imagined!

S.K.A. Birch: You're welcome. :)

Just4Me: Well, during Thrór's reign it meant Thorin could only marry a dwarf of royal blood. But yeah, I was sad for Thorin, too. :(

KillerKadoogan: Ick, real life; I say we banish it to Mordor. Lool, the Master of Lake Town is so much fun to write; I have a fondness for the douchey characters. ;) It's okay, though, he'll help Thorin. God, the getting-together bit...yeah, I have half of that scene written in my head, but I'm delaying actually typing it... I know, what a tease. Much love, dearie, and thanks, as always, for your fab review! :)

Agent007Tomato: Yup, gotta keep you all on your toes! ;)

MugglebornPrincesa: By "he" do you mean Thorin? Mmm, he's a bucketful of slush in that chapter, isn't he. But he does have moments of sunshine and rainbows.

HogwartsDwarfKat: Poor Talaitha was my fall gal for Thorin's story about Riva; I couldn't figure out another way to divulge that without their relationship getting strained. But all's well now. :)

LianaDare8: Don't be sad! This is a happy chapter. :D

xxxMadameMysteryxxx: I hope so, too!

**About this chapter**:

1. Here there be fluff.

2. And dirty-minded dwarves.

3. That is all.

**Disclaimer**: You know by now who's mine and who isn't.

I _like_ this chapter. I hope you do, too!

* * *

**Chapter 25: Here and Real**

They avoided each other for the next few days. It wasn't difficult to do; Talaitha spent her mornings and afternoons in the healing ward, while Thorin completed negotiations with the Master and continued to train Bilbo in swordplay. In the evenings, she would join the Company on the little island and spar with Fili and Kili now that she'd fully recovered from her injury. If her and Thorin's paths crossed, they politely side-stepped each other. There was no ill will between them, yet there was tension.

And that tension was felt by the others. Balin and Bilbo were the first to see it, perhaps because they knew their respective friends best, or perhaps because they were simply the most observant. But soon Kili was pestering Talaitha-for he knew he wouldn't get anything from Thorin-about the cause of their strange and sudden distance, when before he'd seen his uncle stroke her cheek. She tried to wave him off, but his acquiescence never lasted long. Finally, one day Talaitha snapped.

"Kili, don't you ever stop?"

Fili and Nori, who were closest to Kili and Talaitha, looked up in surprise at the fairy's sharp tone. Before the three dwarves could say anything, though, she picked up the hem of her dress and stomped off in the direction of the shore, leaving a wide-eyed Kili behind.

Bilbo sighed and pulled out his pipe, packing it with a bit of Lake Town's finest weed; it wasn't bad, but it wasn't Old Toby either. He moved toward the shore just as Thorin did. The dwarf shook his head, which the hobbit took to mean he should stay. So he sat down on a log and watched Thorin approach Talaitha with slow, almost hesitant steps.

She was sitting in the sand, elbows resting on bent knees when he stopped behind her. She recognized him from the shadow the waning sunlight cast over her but didn't acknowledge him. He couldn't tell if she was angry or hurt, for lately she'd hidden all emotion from her face while around him. He longed to know, but as usual in situations like these, he had no idea how to begin. Luckily, he didn't have to.

"I made a mistake." Talaitha's voice was quiet. "I didn't think when I agreed to the children's request for a story about Erebor."

Thorin crossed his arms over his chest, eyes trained on the setting sun. "It wasn't the tale." She looked up at him, at his tense stance, and waited. Only when her gaze became too much did he continue. "I have not forgotten Riva. I doubt I ever could. Being here merely intensified the memories."

"I caused _this_, though." And finally, for the first time in days, there was feeling in Talaitha's tone. Thorin didn't like how it sounded, but it was better than the apathy.

"I'd have told you about her," he said, steadily meeting her gaze. "If you came to Erebor, I'd have told you."

"My error was prematurity, then." She looked away, at the water lapping gently against the shore.

"Perhaps," he said, sitting down cross-legged beside her. His knee brushed her calf. "But it doesn't matter now. It's out. And it's changed us."

"Exactly," Talaitha huffed. "And it's all my-"

"But it's not broken us."

Her head snapped up to stare at him, her elbows slipping from her knees. He nearly laughed at the surprise and disbelief on her face. "What is that reaction?"

"I didn't think you'd want anything to do with me now that...now that you'd remembered Riva."

Thorin did chuckle at that, especially when irritation flashed across her face. He didn't realize until now how much he'd missed her open mannerisms and expressiveness. But he quickly sobered, partly for her benefit and partly because the subject matter demanded it.

"Remembering her won't bring her back. I'd accepted that long ago."

She looked at him with an unreadable expression, though he thought he saw a hint of curiosity in it. "But you loved her."

"I did," he nodded. "But it was not meant to be. Even if she'd survived, we would not be together now."

Talaitha was silent for a while, trying to make sense of the thoughts and emotions churning within. She felt off-kilter, unsteady, like she was walking along familiar ground but in the dark. She knew she wouldn't fall, but a stumble or two were inevitable.

"Do you miss her?" she finally asked, propping her elbows on her knees again.

"Sometimes." He shifted so he was facing her. "But I've been given a second chance." _At love_. But he didn't say that.

She straightened her knees and met his gaze. Her eyes were particularly green, and they lit up when she smiled. "So have I."

Thorin didn't know how she'd meant that, but as she allowed him to pull her into his lap, he didn't care. All he could think about was her light weight on his thighs, the tickle of her hair against his skin in the breeze, and her arms wrapped around his neck. He didn't care that Bilbo and the dwarves might be watching-some more discreetly than others. At that moment, he only cared that when he kissed her, she responded warmly, opening her mouth slightly in invitation and curling her tongue against his. It was a slow, sensual kiss, filled with apologies and assurances and maybe even a little love.

#

The dwarves _had_ seen Talaitha and Thorin on the beach, and they discussed it at dinner that night. Their theories seemed to be supported by the fact that the two in question were conspicuously absent.

"Well, at least they made up," said Ori.

"They're probably _still_ making up," Kili quipped with a laugh. Fili smacked him upside the head. "What? They're not here, are they?" the youngest Durin complained as he rubbed his skull.

"How long d'ya think it's been going on?" Nori wondered.

Fili shrugged. "It's Uncle. Who knows with him."

"I saw them holding hands on the walk to Beorn's house," said Bofur. "But they split apart so quickly that at first I wasn't sure I'd seen it at all."

Dori chimed in. "And she slept in Thorin's coat that night at Bag End."

"I don't think Thorin would want you discussing his relationship with Talaitha," said Bilbo. "Whatever that relationship is."

Kili scoffed. "What do you mean 'whatever that relationship is'? It's obvious, isn't it."

"Well there are any number of reasons why they...did what they did on the island," Bilbo stammered. This conversation was becoming uncomfortable for him.

"Kissing, you mean," Bofur supplied, grinning.

"There's only one reason for kissing, Bilbo," Kili said with a roll of his eyes.

But it seemed the hobbit wasn't the only one who'd grown weary of the discussion. "Enough!" Dwalin growled. "It is not our business."

Kili mumbled something and stuffed a large piece of meat into his mouth, looking disgruntled for being reprimanded. Fili clapped a hand on his brother's back, amusement dancing in his blue eyes, while the others returned their attention to their dinners.

Bilbo sighed in relief. He was not accustomed to the dwarves' unconventional manners yet, and he didn't think he'd ever fully be. But that suited him just fine if it meant avoiding such conversation as tonight's. He might have been on an adventure, but he still possessed enough propriety to not think about Talaitha-his closest friend-doing _that_ sort of thing.

#

Kili would have been disappointed to learn that Thorin and Talaitha spent their evening innocently; there were no heated touches or passionate kisses. There was just them, the night, and the lapping of the water against the shore. They didn't speak at first. They didn't need to. Talaitha was content to lean against Thorin, and he was content to simply hold her, to keep her warm when the chilly breeze blew. She felt the steady beating of his heart against her back, the gentle strokes of his thumb on her belly, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd been at such peace.

"Do you think they saw?" Talaitha asked, finally breaking the silence.

"Undoubtedly," Thorin replied. "But they were bound to find out."

"Won't that affect how they view you?"

Thorin didn't have to see her face to know she was worried; he could hear it in her tone, the way her frown was almost audible. "They like you. They've grown to respect you. They count you and Bilbo as their own."

He felt, rather than heard, her sigh. "Thank you," she said, resting her head against his shoulder. "But that doesn't answer my question."

"So insistent," he grumbled good-naturedly. "Yes, it will affect how they view me, but perhaps no longer negatively."

She murmured something in reply, but he was too focused on the rumble that reverberated through her body-and his by extension-to really care what. His distraction wasn't sexual, though he certainly _felt_ the soft curve of her belly beneath his fingers and saw ample cleavage when he glanced down over her shoulder; it was an almost sleepy distraction, an intense calm that'd overtaken him. He hadn't felt like this with Riva, and for a moment, that realization troubled him. But when Talaitha tipped back her head to kiss his cheek, all thoughts of his past lover flew from his mind. The fairy was real, and she was here.


	26. Chapter 26: Tiny Delay

Hello!

It's 2 AM here, and I just woke up from a nap, so I'm in a weird mood. But I guess that's nothing new, really.

Ugh, transition chapters. They suck. A lot. And this one was particularly ornery when I tried to write it. Adding to that was a strange fatigue. Oddly enough, I wasn't jet-lagged when I returned, but a couple days later, I drove down to South Florida to visit family for a few days. And _that_ tired me out more than the flight from Hungary. So I had little motivation to write, until two days ago when I finally sat my ass down and managed this chapter.

Your reviews, follows, and favorites were much of the encouragement I needed, so thank you for them. :)

odagiriryu: You reread the chapters? Wow, that's quite a compliment indeed!

Madeline: Lmao, your rambling's pardoned. ;) But I must ask you not to shut up Fili and Kili; they're the humor of the story and much too fun to write. I need them! *clings to her dwarves* But I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter, and I thank you for your kind (albeit hyper) words. *hugs*

Lizzie Oakenshield: "And your Kili is cute :)" Yay! I love him. But yes, I strive to write Talarin realistically. They have problems and sweet moments, just like every other relationship.

Just4Me: Oh God, I know! Riva depressed me. A lot of what I write is quite selfish actually; _I _needed the dirty-minded dwarves to cheer me up. XD

KillerKadoogan: Thanks so much for your review, love! *hugs*

Chilled Souls of the Forgotten: When I first read your review, I'd mentally formed a reply. But now I've forgotten it. XD It was something akin to: "Kill Talaitha? :( That would defeat the whole purpose of the story!" And what do you mean you purposely confused yourself on the last few paragraphs (it'd help if I _remembered_ the last few paragraphs...)?

The Slug Club: First of all, I _love_ your name! Second, I wish I could update every minute of every day, too; I'd be like Super Writer. :D

Abyss Prime: Have you ODed on fluff yet? That's why I pushed it so much in Lake Town, because you'll probably not get much in the next couple chapters, as they're plot-heavy and all. :/

S.K.A. Birch: My trip _was_ wonderful, thank you. But I could never forget about you all! *hugs* I'm rather huggy tonight, aren't I. XD

HogwartsDwarfKat: *nods* My friends and I would make jokes about them, too. XD We've more in common with dwarves than we thought, eh? Thank you for your review, hon!

LianaDare8: Oh Thorin's naughty all right. Or will be. ;)

Sesshomaru's Babydoll: Kili's conversation with Talaitha! Good you reminded me. *makes note to add into next chapter* That should be entertaining. XD Thanks for your review! :)

**In this chapter**:

1. As previously mentioned, it's a transition chapter. I tried to infuse it with some Talarin while finally moving them the hell out of Lake Town.

2. I spent a lot of time with babies this summer. A family friend had cute, tiny twins who were born a month premature, and my cousin had an adorable baby girl. So I had baby on the brain apparently.

3. Bard finally shows up! In the trailer for _DoS_, we only see him pissing off Thorin, which I added to the chapter, but because I like Bard (and Luke Evans!), I wanted to make him a likeable character immediately and not wait until the Battle of Five Armies. And that's where this chapter came from, really.

4. Maybe a bit of foreshadow. *looks around shiftily*

Did _not_ enjoy writing this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

**Disclaimer**: The usual stuffs.

* * *

**Chapter 26: Tiny Delay**

It was their last day in Lake Town, much to everyone's relief, and the Master, true to his word, had ordered a week's worth of provisions to be loaded into three, large boats, each of which were manned by four men. When Thorin inspected the packs, he was surprised to find that in addition to food and water, there were blankets, extra cloaks, pots, and wooden bowls. He wondered what had prompted such generosity.

Although it'd been growing chilly, the morning dawned bleak and cold. Snow had begun to fall the night before, and it now blanketed the boardwalks and rooftops of the town in a soft, already-melting slush. It didn't bother the dwarves-who were a hardy, cold-resistant race-or the humans-who were accustomed to this weather-, but Bilbo and Talaitha were less than keen about it.

"I wish I were in the Shire," said Bilbo, wrapping his little cloak around himself. "Where it's temperate year-round."

"Aye," Talaitha nodded, suppressing a shiver as wind from the north blew through her hair. "Or in Nemere. It's never this cold there."

Thorin watched the two with a smirk, though he yearned to wrap his arms around the szelemér and pull her close. "I do not believe all of Nemere is warm _all_ year."

"No, it's not," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "But it is in the south where I live, so I don't care what it's like in the rest of the country."

Thorin was amused to note that when Talaitha was cold, she became rather petulant. He thought it an endearing quality, but he suspected she wouldn't appreciate hearing that in her current mood. So he kept his opinion to himself and followed his Company onto the boats. He was with Fili, Kili, Balin, Bilbo, and Talaitha; the rest of his kin were split between the two remaining boats.

He glanced over at the four men who would be rowing his boat. They looked like sailors, or what he imagined human sailors to look like. They were generally unkempt, but that was nothing new to Thorin; he'd encountered similar men in the human settlements in which he'd worked. And like those men, they regarded the dwarves with unconcealed contempt. They didn't care whether the dwarves reclaimed Erebor, but they _did _care that they had to sail close to the mountain in which they knew a sleeping dragon dwelled. Yet instead of blaming the Master, they directed their resentment at the dwarves and whoever traveled with them. What a far cry the people of Lake Town were from the long-dead residents of Dale.

Thorin's rumination was interrupted by footsteps behind him, then a voice tinged with scorn. "If you awaken that beast, you will destroy us all."

Thorin turned around and glared at the speaker, who was a tall man in his thirties. The brown hair that hung down to his shoulders was cleaner than that of the rowers, but he, too, wore simple clothing.

"What do you know of dragons?" Thorin growled. He was impatient to reach Erebor, and this man was delaying him.

"I know their hide is an impenetrable armor. I know their breath is like fire," said the man ominously. "And I know you will fail."

Thorin clenched his jaw in an effort to control his sudden anger, but instead of replying, he spun on his heel and stalked the rest of the way onto the boat. When he heard the man follow, his hand flew to Orcrist's hilt.

Balin and Talaitha saw his motion and stepped forward, Balin to greet the man and Talaitha to place a hand on his sword arm. He relaxed his grip on Orcrist, and he considered briefly how easily she could calm him. Perhaps four months ago, he would have resisted, but now he simply accepted it and even felt strangely humbled that such a gentle creature held so much power over him.

"I am Balin, son of Fundin," said the white-haired dwarf.

"I am Bard, descendent of Lord Girion of Dale."

Thorin's eyes widened, but he kept his back to the man. He'd known Lord Girion well, for he and his grandfather had taken council many times together before Smaug attacked. Dale and Erebor had been allies for centuries but never more so than when Girion headed the human city.

Balin, too, had recognized the name. "Lord Girion was a good man," he said, looking sternly at Bard, as though to suggest his descendent left much to be desired.

"So I've been told." A small smile tugged at his lips when he saw Balin's critical stare. Then his gaze shifted to Talaitha. "My lady, will you grant me a moment?"

Talaitha felt Thorin tense beneath her hand, his grip tightening on Orcrist. "Be calm," she whispered to him before squeezing his arm and smiling reassuringly. She sidestepped the dwarf king and joined Bard. "Of course."

"I...am told you are a skilled healer," Bard began hesitantly. "That you know remedies our healers do not."

"Yes. They are szelemér treatments."

"Can they help my son?"

Gone was the scorn from Bard's expression and tone. It was replaced with something akin to desperation. Balin and Thorin had seen a pompous man who'd criticized them, but all Talaitha saw was a father concerned for his son. Such a man could only be good. And so, despite Thorin's impatience to leave Lake Town, she knew she had to help him.

"I can only answer that once I have seen him," she said, picking up the skirts of her dress. "Take me to him."

But before she could step onto the dock, Thorin grabbed her arm. "We do not have time for house visits," he said coldly. He might have changed somewhat, but there was still plenty of the old Thorin left in him. Usually Talaitha didn't mind, but this time, it angered her.

"It will not take long," she replied. Her normally kind voice was sharp, and her eyes glinted dangerously. "It is a _child_, Thorin."

He held her gaze for a few seconds, challenging her with a glare of his own, but when she didn't back down, he knew he had little choice but to acquiesce. He'd become familiar enough with her stubbornness, which was so like his own, to realize he'd been beaten. But that didn't mean he'd bow gracefully.

"Fine," he relented, releasing her arm. He looked up at Bard. "Lead on."

Thorin didn't have to see Talaitha's face to gage her reaction; she practically radiated her ire, but if the situations were reversed, he'd feel the same. He was behaving childishly, and he knew that, but the desire to protect treasure-whether it be gold, jewels, or a woman-was inherent in dwarves. Could he have quelled that desire? Yes, and he had managed to while Talaitha worked in the healing ward, but he'd really had enough of the men of Lake Town. Never mind that Talaitha was the one who bore the discomfort of it.

"You are unbelievable," she hissed in his ear as they turned down a small street.

Thorin sighed. "I cannot help what I am." That wasn't entirely true, but admitting otherwise would give Talaitha the upper hand, and his pride couldn't allow that. Not now. Not after the beating it took from the Master and people of Lake Town.

"You had better learn to."

He didn't have a chance to reply, for they'd reached Bard's home-a two-story, wooden building that looked nearly identical to the others on the street. When they entered, Talaitha momentarily cheered up as the warmth from the fireplace enveloped her. Her bad mood was further chased away by the baby in Bard's arms. Immediately, Talaitha knew this was Bard's ill son.

"How old is he?" Talaitha asked. She had a suspicion, but she hoped it was wrong.

"Nearly a month," Bard replied, smiling down sadly at his son. "His name is Tirion."

"He was born early?"

Bard nodded and handed Tirion to Talaitha. She held him carefully in one arm and placed her free hand on his chest, which rose and fell unevenly. He was struggling to breathe. She bent her head closer to hear his heartbeat and respiration; both sounded clear, and that was a good sign. It meant he would survive.

"From what I can tell, Tirion's lungs aren't fully developed yet, which is why he's having trouble breathing," Talaitha explained. "But he's fortunate, because they'll catch up on their own. Many premature babies don't even live past their first hour."

Tirion whimpered and began squirming, as though he'd understood Talaitha's words, or at least her somber tone. And he might have, for babies were more aware than most people realized. Bard was about to reach for his son, but Talaitha started rocking him and humming softly, her free hand still resting over his heart.

As Thorin watched the fairy smile lovingly at the baby, how she'd managed to calm him with ease, a strange feeling crept into the pit of his stomach. It was similar to the one he'd experienced when she held the little boy with the broken arm, except much stronger, almost like a fire that spread into his chest and groin. It was simultaneously lust and something akin to love. It was something supremely primal, instinctive, and masculine-the need to see her hold _his_ child.

"So he will live?" asked Bard.

"He will," Talaitha said. "I can help him along, though. Give his lungs a bit of a head start."

"How?"

She moved her free hand from Tirion's chest to Bard's arm and closed her eyes. Thorin had experienced her unique ability before, but this was the first time he'd seen her use it. The air around her seemed brighter, more alive for a second, and a yellow-orange light flowed from her to Bard where they touched.

She opened her eyes. "Like that."

Bard stared at his arm, then at Talaitha, agape. "It was warm."

"It was raw energy," she smiled. "I can share a little bit of my energy with Tirion to make his lungs stronger and help them develop more quickly."

"But you are not actually healing his lungs," said Bard, understanding. "You're helping his body do it."

Talaitha nodded. "Would you like me to?"

Bard glanced at Thorin. The dwarf crossed his arms. "It works," he said gruffly.

The man looked back at Talaitha, who was still rocking Tirion. His eyelids were drooping, and he was minutes away from falling asleep. Just the fact that he felt safe enough to sleep in Talaitha's arms made Bard trust her.

"Yes," he said. "I would like you to."

Talaitha placed a hand on Tirion's chest again and closed her eyes, gently pushing a stream of energy to the baby. She had to be careful, though, for too much too quickly would overwhelm his little heart. That was true of all babies but premature ones especially.

Tirion's eyes opened the same time Talaitha's did. He seemed happier as he cooed up at the fairy, then at his father when he took him from her. Bard kissed his son's cheek and was rewarded with a tiny hand grabbing his nose.

"Thank you," he said, his eyes conveying the gratitude he could not voice.

Talaitha smiled softly. "You're welcome."

As Bard led them back to their boat, Thorin took Talaitha's hand and pulled her close. "You amaze me."

She grinned and laced her fingers with his. How easily he had forgotten his irritation over the delay.


	27. Chapter 27: Two Halves of a Soul

Hello!

This chapter ran away from me. I intended for it to be all about their journey down the river, their trek up to Erebor, and other plot stuff from the book, but instead it morphed into _this_. So yeah, plot stuff will come next chapter...ideally.

We're 27 chapters in, yet I still get giddy whenever I get a notice that someone's favorited, followed, or reviewed this story. :D

Abyss Prime: Warm and fuzzy is better than sad! :)

Tyrevan: *nods* I think Thorin needs a headstrong woman; otherwise, he'd run the risk of being too domineering. And Bard was always one of my favorite characters, so I'm glad my portrayal was favorable. :)

Lizzie Oakenshield: Thank you, love! What was the other word you'd use to describe Thorin's desire to see Laitha hold his child? ;)

Just4Me: Bard was mostly nice in the book, though, wasn't he? Even later on during that little tiff (ok, more than a _tiff_), he was fair. And I do love writing "old" Thorin. XD

Madeline: I got motion-sick on planes when I was little, but thankfully, my stomach's toughened up lol. And even though I really hate flying, most people don't. Wow, you read the story in one night? That's impressive... And very flattering! Thank you! *squishes you and dwarves*

MugglebornPrincesa: Grumpy dwarf begone! :D

HogwartsDwarfKat: I know Bard has an older son-Bain, I think?-but like I said, baby on the brain. Plus, I needed a cheap way to make him more likeable than in the trailer. XD And Kili's actually my favorite part of this chapter.

AlasEarwax317: Hi there! This is a judge-free zone in all respects, so don't worry. :) Thank you _so_ much for that review! You've no idea how much what you wrote means to me, to any writer, really. *hugs* The biggest compliment, though, is that you can relate to Talaitha_, _because that ability to connect with the characters is what I strove for. And yeah, I think I subconsciously have Richard (what he said in interviews, how he prepared, etc) in mind when I write Thorin, because I don't like novel-Thorin either. XD As for the fairies, I admit I cheated a bit; they're heavily inspired by Hungarian mythology and Tolkienized just enough so that they do fit canonically while still being separate from the other races. *shrugs*

LianaDare8: Lol, I'm expecting to see Thorin actually have a child and hold it, too. ;)

**About this chapter:**

1. There's Talarin. The writing gods made me

2. There's Kili being cheeky and adorable

3. It's basically one, big extended metaphor

4. There's not much plot. Again, the writing gods made m_e_

Yeah, that's it. Enjoy! :)

**Disclaimer**: I own half of Talarin.

* * *

**Chapter 27: Two Halves of a Soul**

Their progress was slow. The Long Lake was beginning to freeze, so periodically, the sailors were forced to use their oars to break up the ice in the boats' path. And it was becoming increasingly colder the farther north they rowed, until finally, on the second day, when they'd reached the River Running, Talaitha couldn't stand it anymore.

Thorin found her rummaging through one of the packs, grumbling to herself through chattering teeth. He smiled softly. His coat had seen better days-and had certainly smelled better, too-, but it was also warm from his body.

"Here." He draped it over her shoulders. When she turned to face him, he pulled the coat around her, tucking her arms inside, and held it closed. Her shivering ceased, and she snuggled deeper into the garment, a content smile on her face.

"Thank you," she said, shuffling closer to him. "Reminds me of the night we met."

"You weren't dressed properly then either," he smirked, remembering the sheer midriff of her blouse.

"I was proper by szelemér standards," she huffed. "It's you dwarves who are always so covered up, what with all that armor, those coats, and the heavy boots."

"Don't forget the hats."

Talaitha giggled, glancing at Bofur in the adjacent boat. "Well, at least it's keeping him warm."

"Do not tell me that mane of curly hair does not warm you," Thorin said, raising a skeptical brow. He tentatively touched a lock of her hair.

She shook her head, dislodging his hand and tousling her curls even more. "It does," she replied. "But a hat wouldn't hurt."

He reached over and pulled the hood of her cloak over her head. "Thorin!" she muttered when the fabric slumped forward over her eyes.

"Sorry," he said and straightened it. "Better?"

Talaitha grinned. "Much. I do enjoy looking at you."

"You're a strange one, fairy," he snorted, but the corners of his lips twitched up in a smile.

Thorin had heard that some people believed a person's soul was split and that there was someone out there who possessed the other half. He'd always scoffed at the idea, for it was impossible to live with only half a soul, but as he wrapped his hands around Talaitha's and felt how perfectly they fit together, he thought that maybe the concept wasn't so ridiculous after all.

#

As the boats drew nearer to the Lonely Mountain, the sailors became increasingly nervous. They hardly took their gaze away from the mountain, as if expecting the dragon to fly out of it at any moment. Thorin didn't know what the men thought they'd be able to do if Smaug attacked them; he wasn't even sure how _his_ Company would defeat the beast. But he didn't dwell on that. Not now.

"My men will escort you to the shore but will not remain in the shadow of the mountain," said Bard, glancing at the sailors rowing tirelessly through the water.

The River Running flowed quickly enough that ice couldn't form, so the boats made more progress than in the Long Lake. Still, the men hadn't even stopped rowing for the night, though then they rotated in shifts. Thorin hadn't thought much of their manners or intelligence, but he had to admit they were of hardy stock, like the dwarves. And he supposed their etiquette was similar to that of some dwarves, too.

"I can hardly blame them," Thorin said. And it was true. If he wasn't the heir of Erebor, he wouldn't come near it either.

Not for the first time, Thorin was overwhelmed with respect and gratitude for the dwarves-and the hobbit and fairy-who'd braved this quest with him. Balin, who, like Thorin, had experienced the dragon's fury. Dwalin, who was his closest friend and strongest warrior. Fili and Kili, his beloved sister-sons, so young and valiant. Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur, three adventurous yet loyal friends. Dori was a bit pessimistic but shared the same resolve as his brothers, Ori and Nori. Óin and Glóin, distant cousins but true to the end. Bilbo, the most unlikely member of the Company, but the one who may prove to be the most important. And Talaitha, the woman who'd managed to save Thorin, even if he didn't know it yet.

And the woman who was currently swatting Kili on the shoulder. Thorin moved closer to hear their conversation.

"Well, when you and Uncle skipped dinner after we'd seen you kissing on the island, what am I supposed to think?"

"Not _that_!" Talaitha protested. "Besides, what Thorin and I do or don't do is none of your business."

"That's what Dwalin said." Kili rolled his eyes. "You wore a sheer blouse when I met you. And you bathed in the same river as a Company of men with only a big rock separating us. You're no prude, little minx."

"Little minx? I'm older than you," she deadpanned.

Kili grinned. "But you're smaller." He brushed some snow from his hair. "Alright, just answer this then. Are you and Uncle together?"

Thorin drew even closer, ignoring Balin's questioning glance. He and Talaitha had never spoken of their relationship-what it was, what it meant, what it would become. He knew what _he_ wanted, but he had no idea what Talaitha did. He wished he could see her face, but then she and Kili would know he was eavesdropping.

"I...think we are _now_, yes," she said, sighing. "But I have no idea what will happen when Erebor is reclaimed."

To Thorin's ears, she sounded apprehensive, and his heart twinged. He couldn't yet match words to his feelings, but he knew Talaitha was no passing dalliance. She fit far too well with him, in a way Riva hadn't. He briefly wondered if the reason he liked Talaitha was because she was convenient-she _was_ a princess, after all-, but he vehemently stomped on that notion. No, he liked Talaitha because she was like fire and stone, two things a dwarf inherently loved. Her passion complemented his own, and the fact that she felt confident enough to challenge him was a welcome change from many of the dwarf women who'd simply deferred to him. Not to mention, her hair shone like molten copper, and her eyes glittered like peridot. It was almost as though the Valar had created her specifically for him.

"What do you want to happen?" asked Kili.

"I honestly don't know."

His heart twinged again, but for a different reason this time. He hadn't expected her to confess her love for him, especially not to his nephew, but her sheer uncertainty was disconcerting. Yet he couldn't fault her; he knew he was a difficult dwarf whose metaphorical armor was nearly impossible to penetrate. However, Talaitha had succeeded. She'd helped him clear the anger and revenge-filled haze and reminded him that there were still good things in the world. But it wasn't her responsibility to keep him grounded, and he wasn't sure he could change enough to be a worthwhile partner for her. And that was considering he survived this quest.

"Uncle's more like his old self since you joined the Company," said Kili, smiling. "Like when Fili and I were dwarflings."

"I'm sure you two were a handful for your poor mother," Talaitha teased.

Kili nodded proudly. "Which is why Thorin helped. He taught us how to hunt and fight." A grin formed on the young dwarf's face as he reminisced. "I remember his reaction when I chose the bow as my main weapon. I think his exact words were 'An elvish weapon. Why am I not surprised?'"

Talaitha giggled. "Did you happen to like elves?"

"I'd never even met one," Kili replied. "But I'd always looked a bit different from the other male dwarves. Less stocky, less hair." He shrugged. "I guess those are more elf-like characteristics."

"Your eyesight _is_ unusually keen," Talaitha agreed. "But what about your father?"

"You mean why didn't he teach us?" At her nod, he said simply, "He died when I was a baby."

Kili saw the sadness and sympathy in Talaitha's eyes, and before she could say anything, he patted her hand. "It's alright. We had Uncle." Then, as if realizing the solemn turn their conversation had taken, he smirked mischievously. "And from the way he looks at you, we may have an aunt soon, too."

"Kili!" Talaitha swatted his shoulder again. "Enough."

Kili jested-at least Thorin thought he did-, but the idea was not an unpleasant one. She was a princess, though he'd change the law if she weren't. She was open-minded enough to help him govern a race that wasn't hers. She had worthwhile skills. She'd be an excellent mother. And most importantly, she'd managed to nestle herself into his heart. Kili's joke rang truer than the young dwarf could've imagined.

The only problem was that Talaitha seemed reluctant to consider it.

#

At the end of the third day, they'd finally reached the western bank. As the boats were pulled onto the shore, the dwarves disembarked and unloaded their packs, ignoring the impatient glares of the sailors. The men wanted to leave the grim mountain behind as soon as possible.

Bard was the only one who'd joined the dwarves on land, and despite their tense introduction, Thorin had warmed up to him. He'd been civil during the journey, and, though he would never admit it aloud, seeing the man with his infant son had sparked sympathy in the dwarf.

"This is where I leave you, Thorin, son of Thráin," said Bard, extending a hand to the dwarf king. "Though I still do not agree with your plans, I wish you success. For all our sakes."

Thorin clasped the man's hand, nodding curtly. It was a solemn parting, as such an event could only be, but at least the initial animosity had faded. In fact, it seemed to be replaced with a grudging respect on both parties.

Talaitha joined Thorin as the Company watched the boats push off from the shore and begin their journey back to Lake Town. They were rowing upriver this time, yet Thorin suspected the burly sailors would have little trouble.

"He's the best of his kin," Talaitha remarked. A cold wind blew, but she barely felt it in Thorin's coat.

The dwarf king knew she'd meant Bard. "Aye," he agreed. "Though that is no difficult task."

Talaitha glanced up at him when she heard his teasing tone and giggled. "No, I suppose it isn't, but the healers were good people, too."

"Perhaps," he replied. "But they are nothing like you. They work with a detached efficiency."

She turned to him, a grin on her lips. "Ah, but I'm not _like_ most people."

Thorin smiled back and brought a hand to her cheek. "And for that I am glad." He felt her cheeks warm as a blush crept into them.

"My excellent bedside manner has nothing to do with skill," she explained, smirking playfully. "Because of my particular gift, I simply cannot be detached from those I treat."

"Because you share your energy?"

"Yes," Talaitha nodded. "But it does not make me a better healer. On the contrary, sometimes I fear my empathy clouds my judgment."

Thorin turned away from her, staring at Erebor, and he was surprised he didn't feel as tense as he thought he would. He knew it was because of the woman beside him.

"Even a few months ago, I would have agreed," he said. "But I don't believe that anymore." He faced Talaitha again. "Sometimes it is empathy and sympathy that heal best."

She watched him curiously, her green eyes slightly narrowed and filled with questions and requests for clarification. But she asked nothing, for in her heart, she knew what Thorin had meant. Such a statement from most other people wouldn't have been unusual, but from the dwarf standing before her-smiling softly down at her-, it was monumental.

And so instead she smiled, took his hand, and pulled him toward the waiting Company.


	28. Chapter 28: Eve of the Dragon

Look! I'm early! I don't even know how, really, because the past few days have been so family-filled that I pretty much passed out when I got into bed instead of writing. But here it is regardless, and it's not too bad.

Your continued support for this story is a consistent balm that soothes the occasional bitterness of real life. Whoa, that was a bit too deep. But it's true!

Lunar678: Thank you! Is your Thorin story on ?

kaia: Thanks! :)

Abyss Prime: Thanks bunches, dear. :)

KillerKadoogan: Lol, I have a scene planned mentally in which Talaitha actually does swat Thorin, non-violently, of course. I'm kind of dying to write it. ;) Don't worry, there's some Fili in this chapter. :D As always, thank you for your kind words! *hugs*

FleurSuoh: Thank you! Updated. :)

Madeline: Nope, Laitha's not the last fairy, but her kind don't really venture into Middle-earth much, except for trade. It was mentioned somewhere near the Rivendell scenes but not since. I think my favorite dwarf is actually Fili because I'd read the book as a child, and he stuck with me the most...besides Thorin, obviously. But I didn't like novel-Thorin. So Fili's remained my favorite; Kili's just more fun to write because he's cheeky as hell. :)

Just4Me: From Armitage's comments, his Thorin struck me as someone who's determined and has tunnel vision in regards to Erebor but in other respects, lacks confidence _because_ he's been so invested in the quest. So that's the root of his contemplation. The way I see it, at least.

Sesshomoru's Babydoll: Yes, thanks again for the reminder. ;) I'm planning on more Thorin+nephews interaction, but I think that'll have to be after the battle, sadly. :( Also, I see you caught my little foreshadow. XD

LianaDare8: Well, there are two ways the story could end. ;) (But I think you already know)

Lizzie Oakenshield: Oh, you shall encounter other moments like that. I have quite a bit planned for Talarin. XD I'm sort of impatient to get to it!

HogwartsDwarfKat: Oh the weird, high-pitched noises of excitement. Those are commonly heard in my little flat when I get a review. :) Kili is quite swoon-worthy, yes, and I do read some Kili fanfics to indulge. XD

Once again, thank you, everyone, but especially the lovelies above!

**In this chapter:**

1. Is a song called "Cold as it Gets," by Patty Griffin, and when I heard it, I thought it fit perfectly. It's obviously _not_ from Middle-earth, but let's pretend it is.

2. I tried to combine the book with the little we see in the _DoS_ trailer, which is why it's snowing and bleak.

3. Nori's more center stage than usual. It could be because I'd been skimming through Jed Brophy's twitter before writing. XD He's got some cute candids of and with the cast.

There was something else I'd wanted to say...but it's escaped me. Anyway. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Middle-earth, my life would be very different right now. I'd have met Richard Armitage, for one.

* * *

**Chapter 28: Eve of the Dragon**

Night descended upon the Company, whose members sat hunched and huddled around a fire. It was quiet, yet the air was charged with an intensity that unnerved them and only added to their tense silence. Even the animals seemed absent. No owls hooted. No crickets chirped. No nightingales sang. It was as if they, too, sensed that, whether for good or ill, something significant was about to happen here.

The wind picked up, blowing the flames sharply southward and rustling through the trees' dry leaves. Some fell into the fire, crackling and twisting as they burned. The Company watched, struck by the eerie parallel; would they, too, burn like the leaves?

"I can't stand it anymore," said Nori. "Someone talk about something. Anything."

Bofur stretched out his legs. "Lovely night for a campfire."

"I wish we had some sausages to cook over it," Bombur lamented.

"I wish I had a cup of chamomile tea," Dori sighed.

"That'd put you right to sleep," Nori agreed. He turned towards Talaitha. "You wouldn't happen to have any in that medicine bag of yours, would you?"

Talaitha shook her head. "Sorry."

"I wish I had a bed," Bilbo mumbled, pulling his cloak tightly around him. "With lots of blankets."

Talaitha took out an extra cloak from one of the packs. "Here. It's big, but at least it'll cover all of you."

The hobbit took it with a grateful smile, managing to wrap it around himself twice. Fili laughed. "You look like you're encased in a big, gray cocoon."

"Perhaps you'll emerge a beautiful butterfly," Kili teased good-naturedly.

"I may look ridiculous." Bilbo shrugged, the movement barely noticeable beneath the layers of fabric. "But I'm warm."

"Will you sing us a song?" Ori asked Talaitha.

"I can only recall one song," she replied, with furrowed brows. "And it is not uplifting."

Ori glanced at his companions. None seemed averse to a song. "At least it'll break the silence for a while."

Talaitha had been leaning against Thorin with his arm wrapped around her shoulders, but now she pulled away from him and sat up straight. She was silent for a moment, recalling the lyrics, before she began singing.

_To the end of the earth, I'll search for your face,_

_For the one who laid all of our beauty to waste,_

_Threw our hope into Hell and our children into the fire._

_I am the one who crawled through the wire._

_I am the one who crawled through the wire._

_There's a million sad stories on the side of the road,_

_Strange how we all just got used to the blood._

_Millions of stories that'll never be told,_

_Silent and frozen in the mud._

_Silent and frozen in the mud._

_I know a cold as cold as it gets._

_I know a darkness that's darker than cold._

_A wind that blows as cold as it gets_

_Blew out the light of my soul,_

_Blew out the light of my soul._

_I dream in my sleep, I dream in my days_

_Of some sunny street not so far away,_

_Where up in the window, a curtain will sway,_

_And you and I'll meet down below._

_You and I'll meet down below._

_I know a cold as cold as it gets._

_I fight a war I may never see won._

_I live only to see you live to regret_

_Everything that you'd done,_

_Everything that you'd done,_

_Everything that you'd done._

It was a song meant for tragedy and war, for a great betrayal done against the composer, and the dwarves, especially Thorin, could relate to it. Their children _had _been thrown into literal dragon fire. Those who survived were forced to travel across Middle-earth to find a new home. Erebor's supposed allies had abandoned it to Smaug and its people to their uncertain future. It had truly been a dark time for the dwarves.

"Is that a szelemér song?" Thorin asked softly when Talaitha had finished.

She shook her head. "It's an ancient song from Middle-earth, probably about Melkor's treachery against the elves and men. They sing it in some of the human settlements I've visited."

Fili yawned. "You're right. It wasn't the least bit reassuring," he said. "But your voice is soothing."

"Aye," said Thorin, smiling fondly at Talaitha.

The fairy saw Bilbo yawn, too, and giggled. "Apparently soothing enough to lull these two to sleep."

"I spent most of the day shivering," the hobbit huffed. "That's why I'm tired."

Kili elbowed Fili. "And what about you, Brother?" he asked with a smirk. "Did you spend the day shivering, too."

"No," the blond dwarf replied, elbowing Kili back. "I spent the day listening to you prattle on about your plans on how we're going to find the secret door."

"And how _are_ we going to find the secret door?" teased Bofur, grinning.

"Yes, do tell," Nori quipped.

"Oh shut up," Kili mumbled and crossed his arms petulantly. "I don't see the rest of _you_ thinking about it."

Before anyone else could reply, Thorin stood. "Enough. We have to reach Erebor first, and then we can worry about the door," he said firmly but not unkindly. "But for now, I think we should get some sleep. Dwalin, take the first watch. I'll take the second."

Dwalin nodded and moved to the periphery of their little circle, sitting against a pine tree. The others unrolled their blankets and cloaks and laid near the fire. Thorin settled down beside Talaitha and, after a quick glance at his kin, wrapped his arm around her middle. He scooted closer and buried his face in her hair, which surprisingly still smelled slightly of lilac. She was soft and warm, and soon, he began to drift off.

Before he fell asleep, he felt Talaitha turn towards him and kiss his brow. He smiled.

#

Thorin awoke at dawn, feeling better rested than he had in a long time. From her slow, steady breathing, he knew Talaitha was still asleep, so he carefully removed his arm from around her and sat up. Nori was keeping watch, sitting against the same tree as Dwalin had, who was now sleeping. He stood, frowning.

"Why didn't Dwalin wake me?" he asked Nori.

The other dwarf smirked. "He said you were sleeping too peacefully." He glanced back at Talaitha. "I think it's the most you've slept since this quest began."

Thorin, too, looked at Talaitha. "He still should have woken me."

"I didn't mind," said Nori, shrugging. "Besides, I know the comfort of a woman as well."

In the past, Thorin might have bristled at such words, but now he only mumbled something unintelligible. If one looked closely, though, it almost seemed like he was blushing

Nori smiled and stood. "Go wake our fairy. I'll get the others."

As Thorin gently shook Talaitha awake, a warmth washed over him.

_Our fairy_.

#

Snow already blanketed the ground when the Company began their trek after breakfast. The days were growing shorter; the nights, longer, and Thorin insisted on an early start, despite his men's grumbles. They'd woken later and had recovered their strength during their sojourn in Lake Town, but now the chill dawn was an unpleasant change.

Talaitha bundled herself up in Thorin's coat and fell in beside Bilbo, who was yawning and shivering. He hadn't slept as well as Talaitha had, for she'd been warm in Thorin's embrace. That thought made Talaitha internally wince. How many of the dwarves had seen him holding her? Dwalin and Nori certainly, but had the others? If they had, they said nothing, not even Fili and Kili. She sighed. They all knew there was _something_ between Thorin and Talaitha, so she supposed at this point, it mattered little if they saw.

"What's wrong?" asked Bilbo. He'd seen her contemplative expression.

"I'm just thinking about the dwarves," Talaitha replied, lowering her voice. "It's one thing for you to know about Thorin and me. But them?" She shook her head, brows furrowed. "What will they think of him?"

Bilbo slowed and readjusted the pack on his shoulders as he considered her quandary. "Well, I don't think there's a dwarf more against elves than Thorin, so if he's accepted you-and he has-, then the others will, too."

"I'm not an elf," she deadpanned, quirking a brow at the hobbit. "And I didn't ask what they'd think of me."

"Look, I doubt they'll lose respect for Thorin because he's taken it up with someone whose race is related to elves," said Bilbo. "I mean Dwalin woke up Nori instead so that Thorin could sleep. They both saw you two and seemed fine with it."

"How do you know?"

Bilbo scowled. "I woke up because Nori almost tripped over me."

Talaitha giggled, drawing curious glances from the dwarves, including Thorin. She smiled and shook her head, then refocused her attention on Bilbo. "No wonder you're so tired."

"Exactly," the hobbit groused. "The Lake Towners could've given us ponies."

"And I thought you were fond of walking," Talaitha teased with a fond smile. "After all, you did take a walking holiday to Frogmorton once."

"Oh hush," Bilbo mumbled, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms. "I can't believe Gandalf told you that."

The rest of the day's journey was quiet and weary for the most part. The farther from the shore they walked, the bleaker the landscape became. Sparse patches of grass grew, but there were only a few barren trees and bushes among the veritable sea of broken and blackened stumps.

In the afternoon, Balin took Talaitha's place at the rear with Bilbo so she could walk up front with Thorin. He gave her a small nod when she joined him, but she saw the half-smile on his face. In such an environment, half-smiles were all they could muster, for the utter desolation was soul-crushing. Especially for Thorin and Balin.

"All of this was green and fair once," Thorin murmured, only loudly enough for Talaitha and his nephews to hear. "And look at it now."

Talaitha did something quite risky then. She moved closer to him and took his hand. Resisting the urge to glance back to gage the dwarves' reactions, she tightened her hold. "When you are King under the Mountain, it will be green and fair once more."

Thorin didn't reply, but when he squeezed her hand instead of wrenching his free, she knew she'd done the right thing. That small reassurance bolstered her enough that when they camped for the night, she sang a cheerful song from her home.

#

Nearly two days later, the Company reached the foot of the mountain, which was dark, silent, and looming. A powerful gloom settled over them, for although they'd finally arrived at their destination, what awaited them inside was worse than anything they'd encountered along the way.

"Bilbo, Fili, Kili, Balin, scout out the front gate to the south," said Thorin. "The rest of us will set up camp here."

"Why did you not go yourself?" Talaitha asked, sitting beside him on a low, flat ledge.

The map he unfolded in his lap was answer enough. "Balin knows what to look for. Kili has the keenest eyes, but Fili's best at sensing danger. And as our burglar, perhaps Bilbo can find another way in so that this _map_ isn't necessary."

Thorin still didn't know the location of the secret door, and that was beginning to cause him anxiety. What if they didn't find it by Durin's Day?

"You're wrong," she smirked. "_I_ have the keenest eyes."

Thorin placed a hand on her knee and squeezed lightly, making her jump, though fortunately she'd stifled the yelp. "True," he said, smiling. "But I will not part with you unnecessarily."

It was a comment that made Talaitha long to throw her arms around him and kiss him, but with his kin watching, such a response was hardly appropriate. So she settled for scooting closer to him and looping her arm through his.

As it was, she saw Bofur grin at them before helping Bombur with the stew.

About an hour later, the scouting party returned. Balin appeared concerned, but Bilbo looked frightened. Even Fili and Kili were somber.

"What did you see?" Thorin asked gruffly. Their expressions weren't reassuring.

"We saw the ruins of Dale from the Ravenhill," said Balin. "And a crack in the front gate through which issued a black smoke."

"So Smaug lives," Thorin said darkly, his eyes losing the warmth they usually possessed while with Talaitha. "Did you see another way in?"

Bilbo shook his head. "Whatever entrance there may have been then is now sealed by huge boulders."

Just then, the ground shook and the mountain rumbled. Bilbo's eyes widened, and Talaitha instinctively grabbed Thorin's arm, which snaked around her waist to steady her.

"Was that an earthquake?" Dori asked hesitantly once the shaking passed.

Balin looked at him ominously. "That, my lad, was a dragon."

"That's one _big_ dragon," Kili quipped.

No one disagreed.


	29. Chapter 29: A Door Opened

Hello!

It's 2 AM and I should really be asleep, but instead I'm writing this. Classes and work started again, blah. I've been stupidly busy ever since, but somehow I managed to write one of my longest and best (in my opinion, at least) chapters in a while. I guess all that dry, science-y stuff I've been reading and writing whet my creative appetite? Go figure.

Thank you so, so much for the kind response to this story. You guys (well, _girls_) are like chocolate-making my day better!

Sophia Alice Rosalie Potter: Okay, I get Alice, Rosalie, and Potter, but which film/book/show is Sophia from? Unless that's really your name, in which, case, I'm sorry. . I can't believe you read this story in a day! It's getting long, lol. But thank you. :)

Tyrevan: And I love your reviews! :D

Silimaira: Oh, the distances. Yeah...I, er, winged them? I've been meaning to go back and fix them, but that requires too much computing for my poor brain. Perhaps if you'd help, since you seem way more knowledgeable than me in Middle-earth distances? But thank you for the review! :)

Abyss Prime: To be honest, Smaug is a bit terrifying, really. Like really evil and intelligent-looking. I'm definitely going to use Cumberbatch's Smaug (fingers crossed we'll hear his voice by then!) in the story.

Lizzie Oakenshield: Lol, Talarain. I've made it a mission to inject each chapter with cute moments. XD It's the only romance I get lately. And I just reread the second part of your review and giggled like a child. Thank you. *hugs*

An Echo In Time: It's a good trailer! Would be better if we'd heard Smaug speak, though. ;)

Madeline: Hah, cut Kili some slack; he _is_ Kili, after all. XD You're on a roll today! Chuckled at the song, lol.

kaia: *Snorts* Have you forgotten about Kili's brilliant "there's another way in"? I was just staying true to his character as written by Mr. Jackson et al. . But yes, I, too, am ridiculously excited for the second film!

HogwartsDwarfKat: I think Laitha's just making up excuses for why she can't be with Thorin, but I have _plans_ for them. *cackles evilly* Anyway, thank you for your review. :)

Just4Me: I don't think it was Dori who asked about the earthquake, now that I think back. *shrugs* Thank you!

**In this chapter:**

1. No obvious Kili. But there _is_ lots of cheeky Kili. XD

2. Descriptive sentences like whoa. I've no idea what came over me. Usually I suck at setting.

3. Hints? Maybe.

4. Is it just me, or do the characters seem more...alive? I think it's the description thing again.

5. Darn book was kinda vague, so I took lots of liberties.

I really, really like this chapter, so I hope ya'll do, too! :D

**Disclaimer:** If I owned more than Talaitha, I'd buy myself a horse like Szélvész.

P.S. There's a _miniscule _chance that I'll drown in my homework and actual work and come sputtering back up with a _slightly_ late chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 29: A Door Opened**

The next day, the Company was no closer to finding the hidden entrance. They split up into groups and ranged around the entire base of the mountain, even climbing up onto the first ledge. But their search had been in vain. The rock faces were smooth and unmarred by anything resembling a keyhole.

It was late afternoon when they'd finally rejoined at their camp for a meal. During his scouting, Kili had shot three rabbits, which considerably lifted the Company's spirits, for it meant they didn't have to ration the food from Lake Town as much. Talaitha, too, had returned with a small bounty of her own, consisting of edible roots, a few wild vegetables, and berries that had managed to survive the cold. But to find the plants, she had to venture away from the mountain, and Thorin had initially refused to let her go until Fili agreed to accompany her.

The dwarf king's displeasure faded when he smelled the savory stew full of rabbit meat, Talaitha's vegetables, and Lake Town's spices. After such a fruitless exploration of the mountain, the hearty soup cheered everyone.

"I am glad you argued with me today," said Thorin, taking Talaitha's hand.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "That's one of the last things I ever expected you to say."

"Do not grow accustomed to it," he warned half-heartedly. A part of him still clung to his old ways, but he was coming around. With each passing day, he relinquished a little control to Talaitha.

The szelemér shook her head, a small smile gracing her lips. "Have you forgotten that I _am_ capable of defending myself?"

"I have not," Thorin said, placing a kiss upon her knuckles. "I merely wish you to be safe."

She looked up at him through her lashes with her characteristic soft smile. It was her eyes, though, that drew Thorin's attention, for in them he saw something startlingly similar to when Riva told him she loved him. But as soon as Thorin's expression changed, that something was gone from Talaitha's eyes.

And the moment went from slightly awkward to uncomfortable in mere seconds.

"Oi, lovebirds!" cried Bofur with a cheeky grin. "You'd better come eat, or Bombur'll have your share."

Thorin huffed in irritation as Talaitha's blush nearly matched her hair, but when she buried her face in his shoulder with an embarrassed giggle, his aggravation ebbed away. Suppressing the grin that threatened to form, he and Talaitha joined the rest of the Company around the fire, eating their stews in contented silence. Though his expression was the epitome of neutrality, Thorin rejoiced internally at the warmth that reached down to his very soul. A warmth that wasn't caused by the steaming soup.

#

Bilbo had taken to spending hours staring at Thorin's map and its moon runes, convinced that if he concentrated on them hard enough, they would reveal the location of the secret door. He'd tried reading it by the firelight and under the light of the waning moon, and he'd even mumbled at it incoherently. He'd become obsessed, and Talaitha was concerned.

"Take a break," she urged, placing a bowl of dried fruits and nuts in his lap. "You'll give yourself a headache if you keep squinting at that map."

The hobbit groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Too late." He cheered up somewhat when he bit into a dried apple. "You know, Thorin should be the one giving himself headaches over this map, but he doesn't seem the least bit interested in it."

"I'm sure he would be if you'd put it down for a minute." She chewed thoughtfully on some almonds as she considered her friend. "Why _are_ you so interested in it? The sooner we find the door, the sooner you'll have to encounter Smaug."

Bilbo shrugged. "I've always liked maps and puzzles. I'm beginning to think, though, that this puzzle is unsolvable." He watched as Fili and Kili returned with Thorin from yet another unsuccessful search of the mountain. This time they'd climbed higher than before but still found no sign of the secret door. "They don't even know Ancient Dwarvish anymore."

"There's a reason it's called _Ancient_ Dwarvish," quipped Talaitha with a smirk. "I don't think the creators of the map thought their kin would ever forget the language, and their descendents probably never thought they'd need to use the map."

Heavy footsteps drew Bilbo's attention as Thorin approached. "Well?"

"Still nothing," said the hobbit, watching the ill-tempered dwarf with wary eyes.

Thorin let out a frustrated sound somewhere between a curse and a growl and sat down heavily beside Talaitha. "Durin's Day is nearly upon us."

"Which side did you search today?" she asked, unperturbed by his scowl. On the contrary, she scooted closer to him so that their shoulders and thighs touched.

"Western," grunted Thorin. He felt his exasperation seep away as his body contacted hers, and he wondered if she could also purge a person's negative energy by absorbing it. The thought troubled him enough that he moved away from her.

Her bright, green eyes narrowed, but she didn't say anything. Turning her attention back to Bilbo, she left the dwarf to contemplate the extent of her abilities. And the more he did, the more concerned he became, until he'd convinced himself that sharing her energy wasn't the only skill she possessed.

He'd become so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't notice Bilbo was speaking to him until Talaitha's left leg, which was dangling from the ledge, _accidentally_ kicked his ankle. He looked up at her, startled, before the hobbit's words registered.

"I think you should search the western slope again but higher this time," said Bilbo. "The finger on the map seems to be pointing to a specific spot on the mountain. I think that's where the door is."

Thorin regarded the hobbit skeptically. "You do not truly believe that map is to scale, do you?"

"It couldn't hurt, Thorin," Talaitha said, sighing. "Take Bilbo and Kili with you."

"And you?" asked the dwarf king.

"I'll tackle the mountain _when_ you find the door." Her stoic expression warned him not to argue, that he would lose anyway, so he bit his tongue and glared balefully at an unfortunate, leaf-bare tree. What his grandfather would say if he could see him now, so readily deferring to a woman.

His mood was further soured when he caught sight of Talaitha's smug, almost taunting smile, as if she'd read his thoughts.

"Infuriating creature," he mumbled under his breath.

Her smile widened.

#

"We found it!"

Talaitha glanced up from seasoning the pheasant Nori had caught earlier that day at Kili's excited shout. Thorin strode behind him, while Bilbo jogged to keep up with the two taller dwarves, with nevertheless a pleased smile on his face.

Most of the Company had remained in the camp, while Bilbo, Fili, Kili, and Thorin scoured the western slope. Now the others gathered around, their tasks forgotten amidst the contagious exhilaration.

"You wouldn't _believe_ how hidden it was," said Kili, rolling his eyes. "We'd have missed the steps if we didn't double back because Bilbo lost the map."

"I didn't lose the map," the hobbit protested wearily. "I dropped it while trying not to fall off the side of the mountain."

"You need sturdy boots," said Glóin. "I can make you a pair."

Bilbo gave the dwarf a peculiar look, before he remembered his manners. "That's very kind, but no, thank you. Hobbits don't wear shoes."

"They're not shoes," Glóin corrected gently, as though he would a child. "They're dwarvish boots that'll stop you from sliding off mountains."

Thorin glared at the two in exasperation. "Discuss Mr. Baggins' footwear later. We need to move camp."

Talaitha cast an apprehensive glance at the mountain. "Up there?"

"Well, that's where the door is," Kili quipped drily. "Oh that's right. You have a fear of heights."

Talaitha sighed. "A fear of _falling_ from them," she replied. "By the Valar, you are particularly tiresome today."

For a second, Talaitha thought she might have offended the young dwarf, but he merely shrugged and leaned in to sniff the roasted pheasant.

"I helped find the door, so I'm allowed to be tiresome." He was about to take the wild bird off the spit, but the snap of Talaitha's fingers stopped him.

"If you eat that now, you will be sick." She added a few dried branches to the fire and watched as the flames leapt up toward the pheasant. "Give it 20 minutes."

Thorin nodded at his men. "Start packing up the camp."

Bilbo took over vigil of the pheasants, while Talaitha pulled Thorin behind a large oak tree. It was one of the few trees that had continued to thrive after the desolation wrought by the dragon. She smiled fondly as she thought of the dwarf in front of her, watching her with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. He was not unlike his epithet, and not unlike the strong, persevering tree.

"Why did you recoil from me yesterday?"

Thorin raised his eyebrows, feigning ignorance. "I do not recall doing so."

She touched his arm and frowned at his slight flinch. It was barely noticeable, but she'd felt it. After a long moment of watching his face, which he tried to coax into a calm expression, she removed her hand and stepped back.

"You did it again."

Thorin instinctively moved closer, but she held up a hand. "Don't. I might take your energy."

Thorin's mouth opened in surprise, and he struggled for words. Should he deny it? Continue to feign ignorance? Or confess? She looked at him expectantly, so he closed his mouth and cleared his throat. "You can really do that?"

"No," Talaitha said flatly. "But you seem to think I can."

"Because every time you touch me, I feel calmer." He tried to approach her again, and this time she let him. Their hands met, palms flat, fingers intertwining. Sure enough, Thorin felt his tension dissipate. "Like now."

"My gift is one-way. I can only give, not receive." His hand warmed slightly, and he knew she was proving her point. "But I know a healer who _can_ absorb another's energy, be it positive or negative, in addition to giving her own." Her brows furrowed as she remembered. "She always looked so drained afterward."

"Then I am glad you lack that ability." His other hand cradled her cheek, thumb ghosting over her lower lip. "But I still do not understand why your touch has such an effect on me."

She kissed his finger before smiling wryly. "Neither do I, but I suspect Gandalf does. In fact, I suspect he knew in Bag End."

Thorin scowled. "That is just one of the questions I would ask the wizard if he were here."

#

The next morning, the dwarves shouldered their packs and began the long ascent up the western slope. Fili and Kili led the way, for Thorin wouldn't leave Talaitha's side; she was simultaneously chagrined and relieved, because the rocks felt precious beneath her feet.

"What if the dragon causes another earthquake?" she asked, carefully placing one foot in front of the other on the narrow ledge. Every time she looked down at her feet to ensure she didn't misstep, her stomach flipped unpleasantly at the sight of the ground below. A gust of wind suddenly pushed her back, but Thorin's strong hands around her middle steadied her.

"It will not," Thorin replied, gently urging her forward. They'd fallen behind the others, but he didn't really mind; it allowed him time alone with Talaitha.

"You cannot know that."

He didn't have to see her face to know that a frown accompanied her words. "I will not let you fall." To lend credence to his assertion, his hands tightened around her.

"You'd better not," she warned. He smiled as she braced one hand on the mountain side and gripped his arm with the other.

The narrow ledge became crude, narrow steps, and though she held his arm tightly enough to bruise, she climbed them without issue. Soon, they'd reached the rest of the Company, who were waiting at the top of a cliff that looked down into the valley where they'd previously made camp. Talaitha resisted the perverse urge to glance over the edge and instead gave Bilbo a tight smile. The hobbit didn't appear any more pleased than she did to be so high up.

After a few minutes' rest, they continued single-file along the ledge, until the mountain side opened into a large grotto with a grassy floor. Only when she'd reached the center did she breathe a sigh of relief and allow her wobbly legs a welcome reprieve. Sitting against a small boulder, she watched as some of the dwarves began setting up camp and building a fire, forming a circle of rocks around it to contain the embers and flames. Thorin, Balin, and Bilbo were searching for something, and it was only then that Talaitha realized something.

"You don't actually know where the door is, do you?" It was a rhetorical question, made all the more so by Thorin's glower.

"The walls are smooth. We couldn't find anything that looked like an entrance or a keyhole," Bilbo said, unfolding the map for the umpteenth time to look for any clues he might've missed.

Bofur pressed his ear to the wall and knocked on it. "Solid," he said. "But we could chip away at the rock with hammers and axes."

"That would alert Smaug to our presence," Thorin replied. "We must remain invisible and inaudible to him for as long as possible."

Talaitha's legs had stopped shaking, so she joined Bilbo by one of the walls, running her hands along its smooth surface. It was too smooth to be natural. "It's as if magic has sealed this door." Her tone was soft, and Bilbo wasn't sure if she was speaking to the Company or to herself, though the others gathered around in interest. Thorin's eyes widened in realization.

"Moria."

Talaitha nodded, and when she saw the confused faces, she said, "The doors of Moria are enchanted to only open when one speaks the password."

"What's the password?" Kili asked.

"Friend." Thorin's reply was gruff.

They looked expectantly at the walls, but neither a keyhole nor a door appeared. Thorin exhaled harshly. "In Elvish."

"Mellon," said Talaitha, smiling.

But still nothing happened. They tried the word in Dwarvish. Nothing. They tried different words that were significant to dwarves in Dwarvish, Elvish, and the Common Tongue. But the mountain was silent and unmoving.

Sometime during their futile attempts to coax a reaction from the stone, Bilbo had wandered over to the pillar in the center of the grotto, searching it for an inscription. That was when he heard the sharp _crack_. A thrush was perched on the pillar, breaking snails' shells against it, watching the hobbit with curious, intelligent eyes. Bilbo nearly shouted in his excitement.

"Thorin, come here," he said, more calmly than he felt.

The dwarf king stood beside the hobbit, and when he saw the bird, understanding dawned. He looked across the grotto at the setting sun and the moon that was tilting towards the horizon. Anticipation filled him as a ray of sunlight fell on the smooth wall of the mountain, followed by a loud _crack_. Pieces of rock split from the wall, falling in a pile on the grass. And there, about three feet from the floor, a hole appeared.

"The key," breathed Talaitha, while Thorin walked towards wall. The others hung back out of respect; this was Thorin's privilege and responsibility.

He drew the key from his pocket and inserted it into the hole, turning it slowly, then stopped. Facing his kin, he inclined his head. "This is your right, too." The dwarves, Bilbo, and Talaitha braced against the rock and pushed, while Thorin turned the key all the way, until part of the wall sunk in to reveal a door five-feet-high, which swung soundlessly inward.

The Company gathered around Thorin, peering inside. All they saw was darkness.


End file.
